The Voice of the Dark Slayer
by She Who Wears Trunks
Summary: When Nero starts to hear a voice in his head, he goes to Dante for help, but what happens when they find out that the voice is Vergil? Will Dante really be able to help Nero? Dante/Nero and Nero/Vergil. Rated M for sexual situations and language. Lemons.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own Devil May Cry.**

**Warnings: There are spoilers in this fic, because it is set after the events of DMC4. There will be eventual Dante/Nero stuff, but for now it's just Nero/Kyrie. This fic is filled with head cannon.**

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**Lamest hero 64**

**Chapter One**

**Prologue**

After the savior was defeated, Dante left without a trace, and Nero was buried with reconstruction work. He was assigned to help with breaking up the savior, and placing the pieces in a barge to who knows where. As it turns out, there were more fleshy parts to the savior that met the eye.

After that first tedious task was completed, he was given _even more_ tedious tasks. Oh joy.

He was told to help rebuild houses, and get supplies around. And while he was working he barely saw Kyrie. He saw her at night though; in the house he once shared with her and her brother, Credo. She was always so tired, but was always good to see her.

He felt really terrible for her, actually. Kyrie had too much to deal with in his opinion, but she was so strong. She was there for her friends, for people she'd never met. Helping out with funerals, and dealing with the sad families left in Sanctus's wake. And she did all this while grieving for Credo.

He wished he could take some of the work load off her shoulders, but he had enough to deal with on his own. Like that fucking voice in his head. He recognized the voice from when his arm changed, but why was it suddenly speaking to him again? _Must be lonely_.

He's told Kyrie about it, albeit hesitantly, and she didn't really know what to do. Why would she? She's a regular girl; what business does she have with knowing how to deal with some shit like that?

And then a year passes by since the incident. The reconstruction gets done faster than anybody could ever expect.

He promised Kyrie he'd stay with her to protect her, but there really wasn't a threat of demon attack anymore. With the hell gates closed, and the order of the sword gone, the decline in demon life on Fortuna had been so great they were basically extinct.

Nero lived a somewhat normal life with Kyrie in the old house he used to share with her brother. Their little island of Fortuna was a fishing city. With that being said, Nero worked on the docks. He loaded and unloaded ships, and he gave trucks their goods to deliver, and he was basically the guy you went to when something was too heavy for you to carry.

And it wasn't as if he wasn't happy living with Kyrie; he was just not ready to live the slow life, even after a year. He itched to kill demons. It seems like once you start it's hard to stop. Like an addiction. And with the order of the sword gone, he barely got to touch his Red Queen or his Blue Rose.

And the voice. He was getting sick of it. What could he do about it though? What was he supposed to do, see a therapist? He'd rather shoot himself in the foot. All it fucking did was mock him and rip on humans for being human, and sometimes it was so soft he couldn't understand what it was saying.

But there was always that persistent whispering in his ear and he hated it. It made him feel crazy and strange, and sometimes it made him feel even more out of place than usual.

So one day Nero comes home from the docks to a nice dinner for two. Kyrie and Nero had been together ever since he finished off those last few demons by the busted fountain on the day the savior fell. And it was nice. Very nice.

Their workday routine was that Nero would go off to work, and Kyrie would clean around the house, or tend to her garden, or see her old choir friends, and by the time Nero came back, dinner would be ready for him, and he always thanked her for the food no matter what. After dinner, sometimes Kyrie liked to sing along to Nero's acoustic guitar, and sometimes they kissed or held each other. Other times they just talked.

They always had to keep an extra pack of guitar strings handy, because Nero's Devil bringer worked well as a pick, but it cut like a knife when he wasn't careful. Whenever he broke a string he got frustrated with himself and apologized to Kyrie, to which she would always respond with something like, "Don't worry about it! It was just an accident."

And the kissing never really went beyond just kissing. Sure, they made out, and maybe they've touched, but like I said, it never went beyond that. Nero wasn't pushing her to do anything she didn't want to do, and while the anticipation was there, it wasn't as if he was rushing to get his pants off. She loved him and he loved her, but he guessed they were just waiting for the right time.

The talking never got boring, even after a year. They talked about Credo, about Dante, about the "savior incident" in general, work, money. You name it.

The point is, life was good and boring. Just the way _she_ liked it.

It wasn't until one day on their couch that things became interesting again. It was after dinner, the point Nero looked forward to most during the day.

Kyrie was on his lap with her hands in his alabaster hair. She was going to kiss him; he knew it, but that god damn voice was really ruining his mood. All he could hear was her kissing him, her fingers raking through his hair, and that stupid fucking voice. It was deep and sharp. Pristine in pronunciation with an immaculate sense of anger. And it was always _frosty._

"_Disgusting_."

"_She is nothing but human scum_."

"_A demon has no business with a human unless it is to kill_."

He must have let on that his mood was being killed. More like _slaughtered_. Kyrie stopped kissing him and asked, "Hey, what's wrong?"

She was always very sweet to him. How could he let his sinking mood ruin the moment for her? _What an asshole he was._

"It's nothing." Maybe he was terrible at lying, or maybe she just knew him too well, but she wouldn't take that for an answer. She stopped playing with his hair and put her hands on the sides of his face.

"Did I do something wrong, Nero?"

_Oh no! _Now _she_ was starting to feel bad. The only way to remove the blame from Kyrie was to tell the truth, so he said, "It's the voice." He put his hands on her wrists and gently lowered them to his chest.

He sounded really lame. He kind of wished he would've told a lie to avoid sounding so small, but that would've backfired horribly_. He knew it._

"Well, I've actually been thinking about that," She started. Seems like Kyrie doesn't mind having a crazy, deformed boyfriend as much as he thinks she does, because she was ignoring his awkwardness just like she always does. Or rather, she was_ understanding_ it. "…And I think maybe you should go to see Dante."

"_What_?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, you said that you heard the voice for the first time when you got your devil bringer, right? So that must mean it's of demonic origin. He might know how to handle it."

Oh, dear god, no. Nero was glad he had Dante to fight the Savior while he brought down Sanctus, but he was also really glad to see him go. When he asked him if he was going to see him again, it was because he wanted to make sure he was gone by then. Well, that's what he _told himself_, anyways…

"That guy is an asshole, Kyrie."

She let out a cute little chuckle. "Yeah, maybe. But who knows? Maybe he can help you? Being as deeply associated with demons as he is, he might be able to help. What if it's a curse?"

Well, he can't just walk away, even if in the back of his mind he really wanted to. How would Kyrie pay the bills with him gone? What if she needed him? Was she planning on going with him, if he even went at all?

"What about you?"

"What _about_ me? I'll miss you while you're gone, but I'll be alright. I could get a job at Sara's flower shop. You know how she's been trying to get me to work with her forever." She sort of nuzzled his neck.

"Well, if you're gonna miss me then I _really_ don't wanna go." He rubbed her back.

"I think you should, Nero. Do something for yourself once in a while. There's probably more demon killing going on in Dante's city, you know. You'd have a good time."

Well, that is true, but Kyrie was his main priority. That being said, there was _still_ a fork in the road. If going to Dante about this voice in his head would make her happy, then he would do it, but the problem lies in leaving Kyrie alone.

And he trusted her completely, but if something bad were to happen to her when he could have prevented it, he'd never forgive himself. So decisions, decisions, decisions… Always a pain in the ass.

It'd been a while since either of them had said anything, but eventually Nero agreed with a bland, "Okay."

He was rewarded with a kiss to the cheek. He'd get ready to go in the morning.

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**Okay, I was trying to fall asleep when this came to me. I Remembered Nero saying that he had heard a voice say, "Power, give me more power!" when his arm changed. I was thinking, "What happened to the voice?"**

**I'm sorry this chapter is so short ^_^'**

**If you want more chapters, please leave a review telling me what you think!**


	2. The Voice With A Body

**Disclaimer: I do not own Devil May Cry.**

**Warnings: The characters may seem a bit OOC in this chapter, and there's some homo-erotic stuff to come with this chapter. If you don't like it please don't read it.  
**

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**Lamest hero 64**

**Chapter Two**

**The Voice With A Body  
**

Nero took a shower that night, and he realized that there was a bunch of stuff he needed to figure out before he could leave. Like where the hell he could find the old man. Or if he could drop his job for a while. Or if a while was a like a week, or a month, or who knows how long?

First things first though. He had to get the saltwater smell off of himself.

He tilted his head back and ran his fingers through his hair while his face got sprayed with hot water, and his hair just kind of stayed back when he took out his fingers. On an unimportant note, he realized it had gotten a lot longer since the incident. Maybe two inches or so longer than he usually kept it.

Then he sighed like he meant it. "He never exactly gave me an address…"

It was just a whisper, but it was loud enough to wake that god damn voice in his head. Sometimes he couldn't hear it, and whenever it was silent, it was best to keep silent too, because it was like a light sleeper.

But it's strange to say that a voice in your head goes to sleep, isn't it? The voice started out in small waves, and gradually became more and more consistent until it finally said something that made sense.

"_I know where Dante is_…"

A chuckle came from Nero but it was not out of humor. "Yeah, sure you do." How could a voice in his head know where to find Dante? Well Maybe that voice in his head wasn't as "in his head" as he once imagined it to be.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and when he spun around he saw the splitting image of Dante. The only difference being that it was clean and shaved, and its hair was pushed back like his. It was in the shower with him, but it wasn't getting wet. Keep in mind that the weird part about that isn't that it wasn't getting wet, but that it was _in the shower_ with Nero.

Nero noticed the voice's skin had the slightest glow to it.

He really _didn't_ want look down_. He hadn't meant to_. Call it an impulse. When he saw the voice had no shirt on, he felt it was _necessary_ to check for pants, or at the very least a form of underwear. He cursed the god he didn't believe in for what he saw.

His body was just out in the open, and Nero guessed he was just shameless. If it wasn't going to get wet, then why get naked?

So he pulled his head back up almost immediately and closed his eyes like he had been blinded with a big grimace on his features. When he opened his eyes again, he noticed the voice's face was serious, and grim, and not unpleasant. He hated to admit that if he found the voice's face "not unpleasant," he'd have to say the same for Dante. _Damn it all to hell_.

He wasn't going to freak out, but it was hard forcing himself to keep calm when it generally wasn't like him to do so. So he just glared at the voice. It sounds odd to say that somebody glared at a voice, doesn't it?

"_Listen to me… If you wish to seek out Dante, then it is in your best interest to heed my instruction."_

He was close to actually listening to the voice, but how trustworthy is this voice? What did it have to gain from helping Nero?

"Why…" He started confusedly. "Why are you trying to help me?"

A dark laughter resounded throughout the bathroom, and things started to get a little more trippy. The voice's body started to blur, and it was like he was seeing triple. He side stepped his way in front of Nero and cupped his cheek. He was terribly cold for a voice. And why was it getting darker in the bathroom?

"_Helping you…_?" He had on this smirk that made his heart beat just a little harder. Just a little more tense. He wanted to scream, "_Fuck it_." When the voice stilled, his vision went back to normal.

He solved the majority of his life problems with violence so far, so why would this be any different?

He brought his devil bringer to the voice's face, but his vision tripled again as the voice moved his head out of the way, and in his distraction his let his fist get stuck in the wall. _Damn it_. He brought is other hand up but the voice caught it by the wrist with another sinister chortle.

"_I'm not helping you_…" He brought his face closer to Nero's like he was about to kiss him. "_No, I'm helping myself_."

And then suddenly, with a white flash, the pressure on Nero's wrist was gone, and the voice flickered out of sight. Like a dying light bulb. But that laugh was still present, if not for a few more fading seconds. Nero had wide eyes, a hole in his bathroom wall, and the slightest of trembling going on.

He pulled his fist out of the wall, and put his forehead to rest there. He had a _big_ reason to stay home now. That voice was up to no good. Not that he thought he couldn't handle it. Oh no, _he definitely could handle it_. He just had a good reason now. And plus, the voice never _actually_ gave him directions.

Not like he wasn't going to leave anyways. Just because he lost a little bit of his sanity just now didn't mean anything if he could possibly get help. His only concern lied in the realness of the voice just now. How he could _see_ and _feel_ it.

He'd be a liar if he said he didn't feel terrible right now.

Nero went to bed without telling Kyrie what happened. How awful of him would it be if he worried her with his problems? When she asked him what was going on in the bathroom he just told her not to worry about it. It looked like she wanted to say more, but she dropped it for his sake. She was going to be mad when she saw the hole in the shower though.

He usually slept in Kyrie's room, but he decided to go to his own bed tonight. He didn't feel up to sleeping in Kyrie's room, because what if she could see the voice too? If she could see it, would she think differently of him? Would she get hurt? He didn't care to find out.

The young half-demon was having a hard time finding sleep predictably. Was the voice in his head trying to molest him? He couldn't decide if that was more disturbing than his hidden motives or not. It was hard to tell because his hidden motives were _hidden_ pretty well.

He expected Kyrie to show up in his room at some point. Usually, when one of them goes to sleep in their room by themselves, the other turns up. They were lonely like that sometimes. It could be hard to sleep by yourself when somebody you love is in the next room, willing to lie at your side.

Well, he eventually fell asleep but Kyrie wasn't there with him. He wanted to be with her, but he was a bit more dangerous to sleep with than usual. He never hurt her on purpose, but sometimes he scratched her or poked her with his devil bringer. And when he scratched her hard enough to wake her up she would tell him not to be sorry for his arm, and that it was just an accident. He never really stopped feeling bad until the scratches went away though.

Now that the voice was starting to touch, he couldn't risk hurting Kyrie. At least, not until he knew it wasn't _capable_ of hurting her.

So he was sleeping; nothing interesting, right? He woke up in the middle of the night, but he didn't open his eyes at first. He felt a pair of hands on his chest. Maybe if he were awake he would've noticed how big they were. Too big to belong to Kyrie.

"Ugh…" He mumbled, barely awake. "Kyrie, what time is it...?"

Then that dark laugh erupted from in front of his face and his eyes snapped open faster than a bullet train. He gasped, and his body tensed up like twisted wire. The voice's face, which had that evil smirk on it once again, was really close to his face. Its whole body was floating in the air. Thank god it had pants on this time. Nero was thankful, even if it still chose to be shirtless.

He was curious about its taste in pants though.

The laughter could still be heard when the voice said, "_You'd do best not to refer to me as a vile human female, boy_." When it closed its mouth again he could still hear the cackling; like it was background music.

_Boy_? Nero tried to punch him again, but it had similar results to the last time. His fists were held neatly by the voice. And the laugher wouldn't stop. Nero wondered if he was the only one who could hear it.

"_Did you know that a being that resides in one's mind can hear one's thoughts_?"

Nero pushed his fists forward hard enough for the voice to let go, but it did a flip and resumed floating at the foot of Nero's bed. The light from the window hit the voice at an angle that caused little flashes of light to reflect brightly into the air. Nero sat up but held a hand to his eyes; it hurt to look at it after his eyes had been closed for so long.

It mocked him by crossing its legs, folding its arms, and basically just making itself comfortable.

"_No, wait; I already know the answer_," He teased. "_Now_…"

The voice floated gracefully to the bed and casually laid itself next to Nero, to which he responded by getting up as quickly as he could and staring at it wide eyed.

It was as calm as could be. Teasing and overconfident. From where Nero was standing, he could see the outline of its aristocratic profile clearly, while the rest of its body was dimly illuminated by its unnatural glow.

It had been like he was thinking about something and zoned out. When it finally turned its face towards Nero again, he noticed its glowing beryl eyes were serious again, and its smirk was replaced with a hard line. Maybe he decided he was done with the teasing.

"_You seem to think_…" He began as its body slowly rose from the bed like something out of an exorcist movie. His whole body was lifted when he slowly turned over and floated over to Nero. He did a twist on the way over like a show off, but Nero knew he couldn't get mad for something he often did. He'd be a liar if he said it didn't irritate him though.

"…_That I want to molest you_…" at last, the corrupt laughter died out, and Nero hadn't realized how dark it was until it was gone. It seemed to bring darkness to wherever it was… _How peculiar_. Maybe it was a spell of some sort.

Nero flexed his fingers, wishing he had his Red Queen, or at the very least his Blue Rose. The voice reminded him of the blue feelers, or rusalka, that Bael once used to lure out its prey. He floated around with grace, but he _did_ appear dainty.

The voice was square in front of him now, with its hands on either side of his head to the wall. "You're a fool…" He brought his face to Nero's cheek and placed his lips to it. "_You cannot molest what wants to be molested_." Even his _breath_ was ice cold.

Nero cursed himself for not doing it sooner. He placed his hands on the voice's shoulders and pushed again. He fell back like he fell into a pool, and he had the water's resistance at his back. And he didn't even correct himself again; he just lay parallel to the floor, staring up at Nero with an uncaring face.

"That's not how it is… It's Kyrie I want to be with, not _you_!"

"_Hn… You can't lie to me; I've read your thoughts like a tome, and what I've found suggests that you may not even be interested in her __**gender**_."

"I love her." He was reminded of the time he told Dante he needed Yamato by his words, because he sounded so small. He closed his eyes tight. What did this doubt in his heart mean? This wasn't true. Couldn't be, right?

Nero knew it wasn't true. He loved Kyrie more than anything. He wanted her to be safe more than anything.

So if that's how it is, why was he letting himself become confused about his beliefs? He'd gone soft over the year he spent with Kyrie. He strengthened his resolve and stared the voice down.

"_I love her_." This time he said it with finality to his tone, and he had on a glare.

The voice sat up from its spot above the floor and slowly began to leer seductively. He waved a hand in front on his face and Nero began to see triple again. He got dizzy and pressed his back to the wall for support; placed a hand to his forehead to stop the swimming.

"_Idiot boy, your love lies with another man, not myself_. _No, I've won not your love, but your lust_…"

A white flash and the voice had disappeared again. He couldn't hear anything but that ominous laughter for a while, and he sank to the floor. He was going to pass out, he could feel it. He wished the voice in his head would just stay in his head.

Eventually, the laughter died out and he began to hear normal things like crickets, and creaking floorboards, and worried footfalls.

_Worried footfalls_?

Nero was barely coherent anymore. He saw the familiar black abyss of unconsciousness again, but he could just barely hear the concerned worries of Kyrie. Looks like he'd have to explain what happened to her when he woke up. Quite possibly the hole in the bathroom, too.

She couldn't lift him, she said, so she just slept on the floor with him. He cursed himself and the voice for making her do something like that.

When he told her about what happened, he left out the part where he doubted his love for her, because _why would he say something like that to her when it could hurt her_? She's doubted him once and it hurt more than any wound he received during the incident.

And with Credo gone, he was really all she had left, and he didn't need her to think he stopped loving her or something. Sure, she had good friends, but she needed _him_.

Apparently, Kyrie had heard his back hit the wall and his yelling, so she came to see if he was alright. She said she was about to come to his room on her own before she heard anything. She was really the best thing in his life right now. _He needed her too_.

He didn't understand how worried she was until she hugged him. He tried to imagine what she saw when she found him. His back was to the wall, and he was passed out. She must've figured he was alright, because she didn't call for help, but still. Why would she? The voice with a body had done _something_ to him, and she was justified in her worries.

He hugged her back, and held her tight. When she tried to pull away, he hugged tighter, which made her giggle. He laughed too.

The scene was the complete opposite of what it had been last night. Bright yellow light leaked in his bedroom through the windows, and the only laughter you could hear was happy and sane, as opposed to the dark blues he was subjected to last night, and that god forsaken cackle.

Happy and sane… For how long would that last?

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**I'm sorry all these chapters are so short, but I want to pace this out. Anyways, when Vergil swiped his hand in from of his face I was reminded of the scene from Pulp Fiction when Uma Thurman and John Travolta were dancing with each other at that restaurant! **

**Vergil isn't Nero's father in this fic, by the way. I never really believed in the theories say he was the father. I like to think of Nero as "Vergil Reborn!"  
**

**Please leave a review :)  
**


	3. There's A Demon In My Head

**Disclaimer: I do not own Devil May Cry.**

**Warnings: The characters may seem a bit OOC in this chapter, and there's some homo-erotic stuff to come with this chapter. If you don't like it please don't read it.**

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**Lamest hero 64**

**Chapter Three**

**There's A Demon In My Head**

He loaded the last crate onto the truck and locked up the back of it, and then leaned around the side of it to let the driver know they were finished.

"I need to ditch town for a while."

"What for? How long?"

"I don't know how long. And it's none of your business; I've just got some stuff to sort out."

"Well sure, Nero. You take as long as you need. You've been working for a year; haven't taken a day off once. We'll be fine _without_ you."

"Thanks, Connor."

Connor, an older man with a scruffy chin and a short braid, nodded to Nero as he left the docks. He worked a half day, so now he was on his way back home to get his bag and make his way over to wherever Dante was.

He walked through the door and his boots made a noisy thumping sound. Nobody was home; Kyrie left for Sara's flower shop this morning after assuring herself that Nero was fine. He didn't know Sara very well. He didn't know _any_ of Kyrie's friends very well.

People respected him now but they still never bothered with him. Kyrie was the only one who ever spent time with him on a personal level.

He slung his duffel bag over his shoulder and made his way outside again, and then the voice woke up and ruined his day.

Well, that's a bit of an exaggeration. It wasn't being an asshole; it was giving him directions that he took reluctantly.

Catch the ferry. Hit the road. Turn into this or that alleyway. Nothing too bothersome. The sky went from the bright gold morning to the orange tinted pinks and purples of a summer evening.

Dante's city was nothing like Fortuna, but Nero hadn't expected it to be. The people were noisy, the streets were dirty. The buildings were taller, and the clothing people wore here could sometimes be outlandish. Nero didn't mind it all too much. In fact, he thought he could get used to it.

"_Just a few more blocks away_."

Nero wondered why the voice would want to help him get to Dante. He was going there to get rid of it, so what did it have to gain? Maybe his mind was like a prison, and it wanted out. Or perhaps it just needed Dante for something. Who knows?

He hoped the voice was listening to his thoughts again and would just answer his god damn question, but no such luck; he gets no sympathy from the voice.

"_Sympathy is for the weak, boy_."

His face twisted into an irritated frown when the voice chuckled at him, but he finally saw what he was looking for. A red neon sign.

The red tubes curved into the phrase, "Devil May Cry," and it looked like it had Dante written all over it. The phrase seemed like it was linked to him somehow, though Nero had never heard Dante or anybody else say it before.

"This is it, isn't it?"

"_Yes_."

The closer Nero got to the door, the more he could hear music from the inside. He thought he recognized it. It sounded familiar enough, but where had he heard it before? Who cares?

When he opened the door he was greeted with many things that he thought should not have been. The smell of peperoni pizza and beer smacked his face, and it wasn't exactly unpleasant but if he had to do it again he might have something to say about it.

The song got louder, and he remembered the name of it as, "Push Push Lady Lightning." Nero still couldn't remember where he had heard it before, though.

And then he saw Dante on the floor with that Trish lady straddling his hips, and a girl with monochromatic eyes was in the background counting money.

It's not was he thought he was going to see, but you never knew what to expect with Dante. He was the most complicated simple man he had ever met.

The lady in the back looked up at him when he opened the door, and Dante tried to tilt his head back to see who had come in as well, but Trish pulled his face back to her. Dante then proceeded to surprise Trish by standing up and lifting her. He was rewarded with a surprised giggle, and Nero found himself getting even more irritated.

When Dante finally turned back to see him it looked he almost dropped Trish; the lady in the back was irritated too by the looks of it.

"Hey, kid, is that you?"

Nero sighed, because it can't be every day that somebody with white hair and a mutated arm walks into this place, right? How many other "kids" like him did Dante see?

"No, the name's Mike Hunt."

Dante set Trish down and kissed her chest in a joking fashion, and she smacked the back of his head with yet another giggle.

The old man sauntered over to Nero. "Well, _Mike Hunt,_ what brings you to Devil May Cry?" He said "Mike Hunt" really slowly so he could avoid saying anything _strange_. You should say it out loud; you might be surprised at what you hear.

Nero didn't want to admit he needed help from Dante in front of anybody else. He didn't want to admit it _at all_. So excuses, excuses, excuses…

"The population of demon life on Fortuna is nonexistent. I want a job."

Whoa, wait a second. Nero already has a job. If he takes this job, he might end up staying here longer than he intends.

Dante might've noticed that he didn't mean what he said, because he was giving him the impression that he didn't believe Nero, but he let it slide for now.

"Well alright, kid! You got a job." He finally said with a genuine smile after some hesitation. "You need a haircut."

The lady in the back stuffed the stack of money she was counting into her parted blazer and ghosted past Nero and through the door.

"Who's _that_ lady?"

Dante and Trish shared an insider look before Dante said very simply, "That lady is 'Lady.'"

Whatever.

He spent most of his day hanging out with Dante and Trish on the first floor and that can easily be translated to, "He spent the rest of his day making fun of the old man on the first floor."

They got a call about Demons by central park, in which Trish decided it would be best to take the mission on her own, and leave Dante and Nero to themselves. She was gone for about an hour and a half before Dante showed Nero to his room, and it really can't be called a room. There's a mattress, no sheets, no bed spring. The wall paper was peeling away. There was a crack in the small window of his room, and an old port for a ceiling fan that had probably fallen off a long time ago. The blinds were ripped and crooked. The lock was even busted.

What happened to this room? Nero probably looked uncertain, but he wasn't going to turn back because he had a shitty room.

"Who was in this room before me?"

Dante shook his head with a smile on his lips. "This used to be my room."

Jesus Christ, really? Nero knew Dante was rowdy, but what could've happened to this room? He guessed it was a demon attack or something.

"I'd hate to see what your current room looks like."

"Trish keeps it clean; we share a room." _Of course_ he shared a room with Trish. After all, he's probably fucking her. Why would that bother Nero though, right? So what if Dante has a girlfriend.

The newly appointed demon slayer dumped his bag on the floor with a clunk, and a few metallic taps from the zippers. Dante was still in the door when Nero turned back around. Did the old man have something_ else_ to show him? Why did he insist on hanging out in the door?

Nero gave him a look. "…What?"

"Well, kid, as believable as your reason for coming was, I don't think it's the real reason you're here." Old man Dante crossed his arms across his chest and leaned comfortably against the door frame. Dante's face let Nero know that maybe he _wasn't_ as comfortable with Nero being there as he was letting on. Like the kid was packed with… _Hidden motives_? Who ever knew what the old man was thinking?

So would it be wise to lie right now? No, it wouldn't, but Nero liked to do things the hard way it seemed.

"I just needed to get away."

Damn it all to hell! Why did he have to be blessed with this _gorgeous_ way of words? Why must he live this way?

"Yeah? How did you _find_ me?"

Shit. He'd have to confess to lying and look like an idiot now. And why did he have to sound like that? Like he didn't want Nero around. The kid was surprised to find that he was a little hurt by that.

He was losing faith in his lying abilities. He definitely had to work on getting back to being his old self; maybe he could lie his way out of this if he just remembered himself _before_ the year he spent with Kyrie. Not like he was a chronic liar before the year of peace though.

That sounds bad anyways. It sounds like he regretted his decision to stay with her. Oh fucking well; he had problems to deal with.

"Don't want me around, old man?" His avoidance of the question was perfectly executed in timing and tone of voice! Maybe he could _actually_ do this! Nero put his hands on his hips.

Dante raised an eyebrow. "No, that's not it. I just didn't think you'd want to _see_ me again. That's actually why I never gave you any contact info…"

Okay, now that he was in a position to play this off, he smirked at the old man confidently. Nero shifted his weight from foot to foot a few times before walking up to the old man, and pushing him out of his new "room."

"I _didn't_ want to see you, to be completely honest, but you're good for a fight; I'm ready to punch your lights out whenever you are!"

"_To be completely honest_… _Was that even the truth?" _Oh Jesus, is the voice awake again? He was already talking to somebody; it's rude to talk over people, you know.

"You're on, kid-"

The sound of the front door opening downstairs interrupted Dante and he turned towards the staircase before finishing his thought.

"Sounds like Trish is back. Or maybe it's another assassination attempt." Dante said that last part with an excited grin. He looked like a kid sometimes. Why was he excited about something like that? Assassination attempts seemed like they'd get annoying after a while, and considering how old this room looked, it had definitely been a while.

"That smile makes you look pretty childish, for an old man," Nero taunted while crossing his arms. The old man plucked him in the forehead and ran away down the stairs like a giddy girl.

"_He's an idiot_." The voice added its two cents, and since it had been so helpful today, Nero was only mildly irritated at it. He hummed in agreement despite he how felt towards the voice and shut the door to his room.

He stripped down and put on his night clothes. He wasn't tired, but he wanted to wake up the next day and pretend like he had his shit together.

Nero lay down on the lumpy mattress, and stared at the cracked ceiling. This whole building was a dump, but he guessed it was nice in its own way.

The kid heard two pairs of feet thump up the stairs, though one of the pairs was considerably lighter than the other, and passed his room. Dante's room was next to his.

From inside Nero's room, you could hear Trish laughing at something stupid Dante had said. He hoped they were considerate enough not to fuck while he was obviously still awake; He'd honestly rather be woken up by it than to hear it from the start, because to hear it from the start would be to know true _discourtesy_.

Would it be wrong to assume Dante and Trish could be courteous when left alone together? Yes.

A few minutes later, and he was almost asleep, but then Dante and Trish started to have their fun. The walls were extremely thin, it seemed. He was too moronic to think to bring his headphones along. Pity. Trish was fun to be around but her moaning and groaning was pissing him off.

"_Are you jealous, boy_?"

Well, it seems like the voice was about to start its shit again. Nero exhaled a large amount of air from his lungs like a popped balloon. His arched eyebrows turned in further than he realized.

"I'm not jealous at all. I'd like to sleep."

"_You must be a fool. Your thoughts say sleep is not __**really **__what you want most right now_."

What? They were _his_ thoughts; why did the voice think he knew what he was thinking better than he did?

"That's nice, but why don't you go back to sleep? I don't know what you think it is I _really_ want, but it'd be great if you _disappeared_."

That god forsaken chuckle arose from his mind again. "_How can you not be aware of your own desires, boy? It is simple. It is Dante that you want_."

That's ludicrous. Dante is a huge asshole. He's nothing to be _desired_.

"_I don't see why you insist on denying this simple fact. Consider your jealousy, your disappointment, your anger at the woman! That is proof enough of your want_."

"I've said this before; it's _Kyrie_ I want to be with. No matter how many times you suggest I might want to leave her for somebody else, it'll never happen_. I love her_."

He heard a bang against his wall and a few laughs from the other side, and he closed his eyes tight. A weight on his hips let him know the voice had released itself from his mind. Nero reluctantly cracked his eyes open and peered out to the voice. It was wearing more clothing than he had ever seen on it. Good for the voice.

"_My name is Vergil. Stop referring to me as 'the voice_.'"

Why did it matter? He was on top of Nero while Dante and Trish fucked in the next room. _Why did it matter?_

"_It matters because I have a name_." Nero decided it'd be best to close his eyes again. His face relaxed again after a while, but Vergil was still on top of him.

What the hell was going on? _Vergil _was tracing his fingers along his jawline. That's an odd thing to do for a voice. Playing with his _almost_ too long hair now, he said, "_I could help you, you know."_

A contemptuous "Hmph" from Nero let Vergil know he wasn't interested.

"_Keep your eyes closed; don't open them. Just imagine what you thirst for most_."

Should he really be listening to the voice in his head? I mean, who knows what he was planning to do? Actually, Nero had an idea; he just didn't want to believe Vergil would want to "help" him like that.

Apparently he hesitated too long, because Vergil was going ahead and moving on to greater pastures.

He ground his hips into Nero's and kissed his neck. And Nero was letting it happen. He couldn't understand why, but he imagined Dante. Tried to think of Kyrie, but it was hard to see her in the light Vergil gave him.

He kept silent. The voice was not so cold anymore. What once felt like liquid nitrogen now felt like warm flesh. Time passes; Vergil has moved on to kissing his lips and feeling around under his night shirt. Trish has stopped moaning. He felt bad that Vergil was _right_. He felt bad that it really _was_ Dante he "thirsted" for. His growing arousal was proof.

But this _wasn't _Dante. It was the voice in his head. He was kind of letting himself down by pretending it was Dante's hands on him.

"Stop," he said against Vergil's lips.

"_Why would I discontinue my ministrations when the effect they are having is positive_?"

Nero fisted Vergil's hair and forced his head away from his face. He mustered up a decent glare. "You're not Dante. You're not even Kyrie. _You're not what I want_."

The voice lifted his upper half and rolled his hips. "_Your body is telling me otherwise_."

Nero lifted himself up as far as he could and pushed Vergil off his hips. The orange strips from the street light through his blinds shifted across his face

"I don't want this."

Vergil started to float. He put his hands on Nero's shoulders and squeezed gently. "_You're obviously gaining pleasure from this. Why deny yourself like this? It is selfish to waste pleasure over nothing_!"

"_You're_ the selfish one!" His smashed his devil bringer into Vergil's cheek and he swished across the room towards the window. Nero got up from the bed and into a defensive pose. The laughter started up, but before everything faded away, Nero could hear somebody talking confusedly on the other side of the wall.

The room turned completely black, but their bodies were still lit up. It even looked like they were both glowing, Vergil more so than Nero. They circled around each other before Vergil made a move.

Nero tried to block but Vergil twisted it out of shape and choked Nero against a wall of darkness.

"_I am your superior! I could kill you if I wanted, yet you still behave this way. You have not harmed me once!_" He growled into Nero's face with supremacy. Nero, with his hands on Vergil's wrists, dug his Devil bringer as far as he could into his wrists. Vergil had gone back to feeling as cold as ice.

freezing blood ran down his elbow as he said, "Does this not count, _Vergil_?"

The laugh in the background sounded bizarre as it doubled with Vergil's own. "I was not aware enjoyable pain counted as harm. Why don't you twist that gift of yours in deeper?"

Vergil released Nero and pulled his arm from his devil bringer, then waved his hand in front of his face. As Nero's vision tripled again, he yelled out, "You're a freak!"

A bright flash and the laughter was gone, the corrupt darkness had vanished, the blood had disappeared. Nero fell to his knees, ready to collapse completely.

"You're a god damn freak…" He was on all fours now. Dante busted into his room. It wasn't like he locked the door, was that really necessary?

"Hey, kid! You alright?"

Nero didn't answer. He was breathing heavily; arms were shaking.

Dante rushed over and hauled Nero to the bed. "What's wrong? Why were you yelling?"

Nero could barely see. Barely hear. But he thought now was as good a time as any to confess his intentions for showing up at the DMC building.

"_There's a demon in my head,_" He managed to say before losing consciousness completely.

* * *

**This chapter is sort of long, huh? 8 pages is the most any of the chapters so far has gotten.**

**So, the reason I mentioned "Push Push Lady Lightning" in this chapter is because recently, I've been playing Guitar Hero II, and it seemed like it's be a good theme for Trish. Most of the words are "Push Push Lady Lightning," and I thought it would just sound right if the song was playing while Trish was on top of Dante. It's a Bang Camaro song, by the way.**

**I've had that scene between Vergil and Nero in my head for a while now, and I'm glad I could get it published finally :) The Dante/Nero goodness is just a little bit stronger in this chapter, no? It's going to be a little slow, I hope everyone can wait!**

**Please leave a review!**


	4. God Damn It All To Hell

**Disclaimer: I do not own Devil May Cry.**

**Warnings: The characters may seem a bit OOC in this chapter, and there's some homo-erotic stuff to come with this chapter. If you don't like it please don't read it.**

* * *

**Lamest hero 64**

**Chapter Four**

**God Damn It All To Hell  
**

Nero woke up slowly to the tingling feeling of numbness. It stung him, this early in the morning. Was it the morning? The street light still shone through the blinds but it was a dark shade of blue rather than black, so maybe it was in the late AM hours. The light glow from his devil bringer made it a bit easier to see.

He gingerly sat up, muscles aching and head pounding. It took him a few seconds to realize he was not alone in the twin sized bed. It startled him at first; he was ashamed at himself for fearing it was the voice.

Dante sat with his back to the wall and his head rested on his knee, while his other leg hung from the bed carelessly. A small smile cracked on Nero's face as he noticed a tiny bit of drool on his leg.

Had the old man tucked him in? That's what it looked like. The gray comforter pooled around his waist was proof enough. He remembered vaguely passing out with his legs off the edge of the bed, and the blanket strewn to the side.

That was sweet of him, but unexpected. He even stayed in the room with Nero. He'd never thought of the scruffy slayer as sweet before, and it made him feel bad for a few reasons.

Those reasons include him being interested in men, rather than _Kyrie_, and assuming the worst of the old man on unreasonably defensive measures.

His stomach growled loudly and his smile fell. _"Oh no, please don't wake up...!"_ He yelled in his mind. Seems like Dante isn't a heavy sleeper. Once again, Nero assumed wrongly about the old man. He guessed you couldn't afford to be a heavy sleeper when you have assassination threats though.

It couldn't be helped. He hadn't eaten anything since yesterday morning, and it wasn't much. Honestly, he had been hungry yesterday, but he didn't want to ask for food.

Dante slid his eyes open and looked around as if he was confused about something. Maybe he forgot he slept in Nero's room.

He'd overlooked Nero a few times, but when he finally did notice him he lifted his head and wiped the spit from his face quickly.

"Kid…!" He gasped. His face was worried and surprised, perhaps a little sheepish. How unlike the old man to be sheepish, but maybe Nero could blame it on the poor lighting. It was like he forgot why he was in there. Nero silently he prayed he had, so he could return home with a cheap excuse and pretend like he didn't have a voice in his head; like he wanted to be with Kyrie.

"Hey…" Nero felt his face turn guilty, and he turned his head away from Dante. He didn't want to worry _anybody_ with his problems. He knew it was a bad idea to come to Devil May Cry. He could brush this off if he tried to, right?

"Hungry?"

What? He'd nearly forgotten he was hungry again! His stomach answered for him. "Yeah."

Dante got up and wiped off his knee with his black beater. Nero's devil bringer glowed the tiniest brighter when he noticed the old man was only wearing a beater and red briefs. _God damn it all to hell_.

Nero would just have to deal with it; try hard not to be a huge queer around Dante. The older slayer wasn't even gay, so whatever happened probably _didn't_ involve Nero being together with Dante.

Oh well. Nero planned on leaving soon after being embarrassed like he was.

Dante held out his hand to the kid and pulled him from the bed. He led Nero downstairs and into the kitchen. He pulled out a fairly fresh box of pizza and offered to let him eat it in his room. Nero, not knowing what else he could do, simply accepted.

He didn't think the old man wanted to eat it with him, but evidently he had been wrong in assuming that _as well_. Nero tried to grab the box and go but Dante moved it out of reach and smirked his way, sauntering his way out of the kitchen and back to his room.

Which reminded Nero to stop referring to it as his room.

So they get back to the _spare room_, and Dante has already started to dig into the pizza. Dante treats cold pizza like it's the best thing he'd ever eaten, and while Nero thought it was pretty good himself, he wasn't gobbling it down like he'd been starved. Though it felt like he _had_ been.

Nero ate a slice and then stopped. He felt better after eating, but he had to start being honest; get the bullshit out of his way so he could return to Fortuna, the god forsaken fishing island. If Nero really _was_ being honest, he'd have to admit to not truly wanting to return.

"You didn't have to stay in here, you know. You could go back to _Trish_ if you want." He'd said Trish's name harsher than he'd meant to. The kid could only hope Dante hadn't noticed.

Nothing ever went how he hoped though; Dante's arched eyebrows were enough indication of that.

"Well actually, kid, Trish left after you passed out. And I wouldn't feel right leaving you alone with a _demon_ in your head and all." The same old overly casual tone of voice Dante made was always just a bit humorous. Dante could lighten the mood at a funeral if he chose to.

"Why?"

"What do you mean '_why_?_'_ Whatever that demon did to you had you knocked out for hours! I'd like to be around if it tries to hurt you again."

That's not what Nero meant; he was asking about Trish, but he was busy trying not to be touched by Dante's words. He didn't say that because he cared about Nero, he had convinced himself he'd said it because he didn't want to deal with him.

Nero clarified his question with, "I meant about Trish, old man."

Who knew life could be so embarrassing? Dante said, "She tried to convince me to leave you alone in here so she could go for _round 2_, but I said no; She's been really demanding lately…" That really pissed Nero off. She was a regular slut in his eyes, but he knew it was because he was wearing his "jealousy goggles." Nero had invented them himself, did you know that?

"Anyways, did you know you talk in your sleep?" What?

"Trish heard you say my name in your sleep, and she got a little upset because she assumed it was a _wet dream._ Naturally, I tried to convince her that _everybody_ has had a wet dream or two about me. She didn't exactly appreciate the joke."

Dante rubbed his nose with a small laugh at the last part. Nero wanted to turn his face away, but he feared that it would make him look guilty. And did he really say Dante's name in his sleep? If he was dreaming about Dante, he couldn't remember what happened. Nero doubted it was a wet dream.

"She must've thought that because you passed out with half a boner, but I somehow doubt you were really having a wet dream about me, even if all the screaming you were doing in here would make more sense that way."

"Ah, shut up. Nobody could have a wet dream about a guy _your_ age."

Dante just laughed at his insult. They both knew that was a big lie anyways.

"By the way, what was that voice saying to you, huh? Is it a lady? She must have said something pretty gross for you to get turned on like that!"

Where was his blue rose? He was ready to try and take himself out now. He was sure his face was a shade pink, which was terrible because he didn't blush easily. He hoped the poor lighting was working to his advantage, but his fucking arm ruined another one of his wishes with it's light.

Time to come clean, he decided. "It's a guy."

"Wow, really? I never thought you were…"

Nero took another slice of pizza and turned his head away from Dante. He used the pizza as an excuse not to talk. He was definitely leaving in the morning… Or later in the morning, he should say.

What would he say anyways? "_Oh, Dante, The voice in my head made me realize how gay I am for you! Hold me in your arms!"_ There was nothing good to say in a situation like this; he'd made the right decision to keep his mouth shut.

"I'm going to help you with this," Nero turned back to Dante. His face was determined, but not hard. Like he was being _sensitive_ all of a sudden or something. "So don't think about leaving."

Nero's face turned from embarrassed and upset to surprised. The old man reached out to wipe pizza sauce off of Nero's face with his thumb, and then he liked it clean.

"Don't do that." That was a bit too intimate for Nero when he knew he'd never get anything like real emotion. He could only hope he wouldn't get too sensitive when Dante flirted. Not that he planned to be around long enough to get hurt, or at least, this is what he hoped for.

Chuckle, chortle, giggle. Dante loved to laugh, it seemed. "If it turns out you really _were_ having a wet dream…" He stood up and dusted off his hands and thighs, then made his way to the door. "I can only hope it was about me."

And he was just gone. Well damn, did he want to fuck _Nero_ now? It was just a joke, Nero convinced himself; he wasn't going to let himself get to into the idea of himself being with Dante because he planned to return to his life with Kyrie, and because Dante was probably just looking for some quick fun.

He probably didn't want a relationship with Nero, because he still only saw him as a "kid." Man whore.

And Nero didn't want to _get hurt_; didn't want to _hurt_ _anyone else_.

He set the box of pizza on the ground and settled himself under the comforter. He was tired, and if what Dante had said earlier was true, he might be back later to check on him. Nero decided it'd be best to be asleep by then.

He was able to make himself fall asleep before Dante came back. He got maybe thirty of forty minutes of extra sleep before Dante started to poke him in the forehead, to which Nero responded by elbowing him in the ribs. It's possible he broke a few. Whatever, Dante would survive.

He lay back down on his back with his hands behind his head and closed his eyes as comfortably as he could manage.

"C'mon, kid, get up. I can't help you get rid of that voice till you tell me about it."

Oh, um… He couldn't just do that, could he? He thought his morning was already embarrassing enough. There was absolutely no reason to continue on with details of his harassment. He didn't want to come out and say the voice tried to _have his way_ with him, and he didn't want to say he almost let it happen because he made himself think it was Dante either. So much for _honesty._

"You've got no reason to worry about it, old man. I'm leaving today; it was a mistake to come here."

Pause. "A mistake, huh?" Wait a second, why did he sound hurt? Maybe he was just tired, but it seemed like Dante was just the most _complex simple_ man he'd ever come to know. Hadn't he said that before? He needed confirmation, so he cracked one of his eyes open and looked at Dante. _Shit_, he _is_ hurt!

His eyebrows curved down in the slightest of ways, and his beryl stare looked sad and maybe, just a bit regretful. His lips were turned downward, but not severely so. It was as if his mouth fell down a small distance.

"Hey," Nero started. He tapped Dante's forearm with the back of his devil bringer to try and lighten the mood. "Don't make that face, makes you look ancient." He offered a smile, but Dante simply turned his face away and averted his gaze to the floor.

"I'm not good with this shit, I hope you know. I came here because I… Because I wanted your help, and in the back of my mind, I wanted to see you." Dante turned his way a smidgen. "But I think I can handle this on my own now, and I don't want to-"

"You're ridiculous, Nero."

It was strange to hear his name from Dante's mouth. What surprised Nero the most though, was that the old man thought he was being ridiculous, when Dante himself was one of the most flamboyant, outrageous, extravagant people to have ever touched the earth. "Explain to me why you would think _that_, _old man_."

"You're joking, _right_, kid?" He turned his face back to Nero all the way now, and a look of aggravation on his face. It made him look like the voice, and Nero didn't like it. He subconsciously shrunk back a little. Dante didn't seem to notice or care.

"If you even thought you might've needed help, then you should know this is something _big_. You're just not the type to seek out anybody's help unless it's absolutely necessary. Take a look at _whatever happened_ last night! This _voice_ had you passed out on the bed, and you want to leave with it _still inside your head?"_

Nero sat up, and he was getting angry. Dante had good intentions, but if Nero decided it was none of his business, then it was _none of his business_.

"Yeah, I _do._ I told you, I can fucking handle it!"

Dante replied with a humorless chuckle. "What happened to you, kid? You're different now; is it the voice? Or maybe it's your girlfriend, Kyrie? But wait, that's right! You only get hard for boys, am I right?"

That's going too far. He had no right. Fuck this; _fuck it all_. Dante _wanted_ fight, so naturally there would be a fight. His eyebrows slowly curved further, and further downward, and Nero feared he might be shaking. Nero tackled Dante from the bed like a vicious, rabid dog. Teeth bared and a feral growl emitting from his throat, he punched and clawed at Dante.

The old man grabbed his wrists and flipped them over, but before he could get in any hits, Nero brought up his knees and pushed Dante off of himself. Dante landed on his feet.

"You lie a lot more than I remember kid. Have you noticed?"

"Shut up!"

Nero threw himself back at Dante but he dodged to the left before Nero could hook him with his right hand. He used the momentum of the punch the twist himself around and grab for Dante's beater. He ripped holes into it but managed to keep a good grip on it.

"Why don't you tell me what you _really_ want to say, kid?"

"I said 'shut up!'" Nero head butted Dante with enough force to get some of his blood smeared on his forehead. And he kept doing it for a while too; he hadn't noticed, but Dante was slowly bringing up his own shaking hands. He placed the one on his devil arm on the other to his stomach, and he too drew a bit of blood. Nero bent over his fist a bit, but he grabbed Dante around the waist, being sure to dig in his claws, lifted him up, and Dante back down against the floor. Some splinters flew up and he was almost blinded in his left eye for it.

Dante decided to show out with a spin in his legs, and tripped Nero like a real break dancer. Dante flipped himself back up and put his foot to Nero's chest down hard so he feared the rickety floor might give in to the weight and fall through to the bottom.

Nero kicked his foot out and tripped Dante up too, but unfortunately for Nero, Dante caught himself and brought his right knee to rest painfully on Nero's chest while the other was on the floor by his ribs. His first instinct had been to punch, but his brilliant strategy got him pinned down once again. He needed to come up with a better tactic.

Nero tried to wiggle out of the small prison Dante placed of him, bucking his hips and thrashing as best as he could, but it was like he'd been pinned down by all the debris Temen-ni-gru had to offer ten years ago. Not that Nero really knew anything about that. He remembered hearing something on the news when he was a small kid, but that was all.

He'd have to content himself with glowering at Dante's face, and noticing new red stains on his nightshirt, which eventually would become an unpleasant brown. Yuck.

"Get off of me so I can leave," He demanded through gritted teeth.

"No."

"_Get. Off_." This was getting dangerous. He could feel his trigger pulsing in his arm, aching to be released. His eyes flashed red like a camera, lighting up the old man's face for a split second. His heart was pounding in his chest and wondered if Dante could hear it too. If he used his devil, maybe then could he tear the old man's eyes out and leave without him being able to see where he went off to. Sounded nice.

Dante pushed down harder, and it wasn't getting any easier to breath. "Despite what you've come to think of me kid…" Dante sunk to kneel over Nero. "I do care about you, and I am going to fucking help you if I have to chain you to the floor."

Well, there was some lightness to his tone. It mixed with the atmosphere, and Nero could feel his trigger calm down a bit, but he was still mad. He decided to play along with Dante; maybe it would help him cool off.

"Why don't you try it, _Dante_." The way he said Dante's name was meant to be a challenge, but something about the look Dante gave him led him to believe that he had seen his words as something else. That could only spell trouble.

"You don't know what you're getting yourself into," he announced as he placed his palms to the floor by his head. Well, maybe he didn't, but it wasn't Nero's fault that the old man was hard to understand sometimes. For example, when he gave Nero Yamato back in Fortuna. He would be lying if he said they knew very much about each other, and because of that, it didn't make sense that Dante wanted Nero to have the powerful katana, the key to hell, the mighty Yamato!

Nero loved that sword almost as much as his Red Queen, though he didn't think he could love any weapon more than her because she was custom made to suit _him_. No one could use her like Nero could.

Another instance of Dante's _abnormality_ would be right now. There was no telling what he had in mind. That's really the only reason Nero had to be worried, because he knew Dante wouldn't try to actually _kill him_. If he was going to kill Nero he would've done so back in Fortuna.

His eyes didn't say anything about _killing_ though. It was something else.

It became apparent what Dante wanted when he brought his face closer to Nero's ever so slowly. Nero hoped he was assuming the right thing in thinking Dante wanted to kiss him. He hoped he actually went for it. He looked on at Dante with half-lidded eyes.

"What the hell?" Whose voice was that? Nero had heard it somewhere before… Nero's hope was like a fucking curse today, it seemed. Whatever god he didn't believe in was trying their hardest to make him look bad this morning. He was a bit dazed though, to be honest. _Just a bit_.

The voice was feminine and light, but with a tone of surprise, perhaps anger, and maybe even betrayal. Dante turned his head to the door, because apparently the voice had come from there, and Nero followed his gaze to see a miffed Trish in the doorway.

_God damn it all to hell._

* * *

**Did you guys miss Vergil in this chapter? I wanted to show Dante was interested in Nero, but of course, knowing Nero's life, something had to go wrong! Please don't hate me for it ^-^**

**Any ways, I'd like to know if you guys like how I'm pacing the story. Do you think it's going too slow? And also, was Nero a bit more in character this chapter? I think so, but I'd like the reader's opinion. Is there anything you'd like to see next chapter? Let me know what you think!**

**Please leave a review :)**


	5. The Asshole in the Red Trench

**Disclaimer: I do not own Devil May Cry.**

**Warnings: The characters may seem a bit OOC in this chapter, and there's some homo-erotic stuff to come with this chapter. If you don't like it please don't read it.**

* * *

**Lamest hero 64**

**Chapter Five**

**The Asshole in the Red Trench  
**

He was pulled from the floor and swung across the room, though in that instant, he didn't know what for. But his mind seemed to return to him as Dante's body heat left. He could hear gunshots whizzing by him, and Dante had tried to protect him by getting him out of the way. How nice of him.

He back hit the wall with a sharp crack, though it hadn't come from his body, and he regained his senses _completely_ as small pieces of wall fell into his hair and shoulders.

Dante hopped up and pushed Trish out of the spare room, closing the door behind him, and muttering curses under his breath. Nero, once again, put on his guilty face.

He just spent his whole morning convincing himself to go back to Kyrie, and he brushed it all off just now with that little stunt. Even if it wasn't completely his fault, there was no way he could try to be with Kyrie now. He just wasn't interested in her like that.

He closed his eyes and hit his head off the wall as Trish and Dante began to yell at each other from behind the door.

"_I don't see why you don't just kill her."_

And then there's the voice to worry about too. Nero decided it'd be best to just get dressed and pack up. He sifted through his duffel bag with frustration after brushing the wall bits off of himself.

"I couldn't kill Trish because she's not in the wrong."

He found the first shirt he was looking for, which was a navy sweat shirt with the sleeves cut off. The sleeve part was frayed in a way that let you know he had done that himself, rather than buying it like that. Nero felt like somehow, it suited him better to have his clothes ripped by his hand instead of some manufacturer.

From the other side of the door you could hear Dante trying desperately to calm Trish down.

"_You're right; she isn't in the wrong. __**You are**__, because you should've disposed of her."_

"Why do you want me to be with Dante?"

"_There are a few reasons I can think of. One of them being that when __**you're**__ upset, __**I'm**__ upset as well."_

"I guess that makes sense, but if that's true, why would you try to fuck me yourself?"

Nero dug out the second shirt, which was a black elbow length muscle shirt. He started to pull off his night shirt, and he had it over his face when somebody walked in. He didn't know at first because he couldn't see. Having a shirt over your face can sometimes cause temporary blindness.

"Oh, so you're leaving without having to be told?" The voice was condescending, bitter, and not Dante's.

He popped his head out of the shirt hole and his longer hair flopped into his face cutely. He brushed it from his eyes, and glared at Trish, however softly, because he refused to blame her.

Maybe that's not what he would've done a year ago, but he really was too soft nowadays. That was his fault _too_.

"_Do you not hear this vile woman talking to you? Do you not hear her tone of voice? __**Take her life**__!"_

"Tch," came Nero's annoyed response to both Trish and Vergil. "Of course I am, _Gloria_. Why would I stay when everybody here is trying to molest me?"

He called her by her alias as a sign of disrespect, and by the look on Trish's face, I'd say she was upset he called her that. And one could assume the last part was true when Nero caught Trish staring at his bare chest. Slut. It either happened because she simply could not help herself, or because she was out to fuck every white haired-boy she could find.

Nero liked the first reason the best.

"_Don't_ call me that." She cocked her hip, and crossed her arms. Nero wondered if she knew she was propping herself up, or if it was just a subconscious thing. "We got a call from Lady; Dante is downstairs taking the job. Told me to come up here and make you take it with him."

"_I doubt she could make __**us**__ do anything. She may have that fool downstairs wrapped around her finger, but I'm not going to let you stand for this nonsense. If you won't kill her, throw an insult her way, cut her deeply, __**something**__!"_

Sometimes, it was just so hard to talk to two people at once. Nero doubted he could take it for long.

"Why should I accept it? You don't seem to want me here."

Trish came to stand above Nero, and she bent over just a bit in what seemed to be an intimidation attempt. It wasn't working, whatever she was trying to do.

"I _don't_, kid. I've been with Dante for a long time, and I'm not going to let some kid come in and take him away." She leaned back almost apologetically, like she hadn't meant to bend over, and that she thought she was being unreasonably unpleasant. "He's all I've got; He makes me happy. And plus, Dante's the boss. If he says I should come and give you work, then that's what I'll do."

Oh_, geez_. He'd never looked at it that way. Nero had to wonder if she was _always_ that submissive, if you catch my drift. But on a friendlier note, he was trying to see Trish as defensive rather than hostile, and he was also trying to see from her point of view to understand her better. He'd rather not leave with either of the two demon hunters angry at him.

"Fine, but if I'm gonna be taking a job, I'm gonna need you to get out."

He stood up and shooed her out of his room as he heard her mutter, "What's the matter? You shy?" before closing the door in her face.

A little more shifting through his bag led him to a pair of ripped jeans, and red leather boots. He found a stray rubber band at the bottom of his bag, and tied his hair back in a low ponytail.

When he went downstairs, he saw Dante with a cord phone in his hand and his legs crossed on his desk. He looked like a silly teenage girl, sitting on top of his desk like that. Nero didn't know where Trish had gone off to, nor did he truly care.

"…Well you're a _bitch_ sometimes yourself!" He said harshly.

What is he talking about? Isn't he supposed to be getting a mission? Lady wasn't the kind of girl that you could say whatever to and still get your way, was she?

"…Kay, thanks, Lady!" The tone of voice had changed dramatically from the last line he pulled. What the fuck is going on here? Is that how Dante and Lady usually talked to each other?

Nero's face must've been ridiculously confused. Dante hung up the phone and looked over at Nero, and then busted out with a fit of giggles.

Nero crossed his arms, getting inpatient now. He guessed that the sooner he took and finished this job, the sooner he could go home. The old man, however, was not dressed. Was there a good reason he had to go with him anyways? He could just refuse the task if he wanted. In fact, _that's what he was going to do!_

"Go get dressed!" So much for _that_…

Dante hopped off the desk and strutted over to Nero, both of them deciding to ignore the elephant in the room for now, and plucked him in the forehead.

"I like your getup, kid."

_Whatever, just get dressed!_ It's not as if that matters right now. Dante was taking his grand old time getting up the stairs. Nero's eyebrow began to twitch.

"_Stop being an imbecile and use your gift of power to force him up the god forsaken stairs! Everything is a puzzle to you!"_

Vergil had a point, but it seems some of his irritation has worn onto him as well. Damn, that's not very good.

Nero ran up to the middle of the stairs where Dante stood, and placed his hands onto his back, reminding himself to be careful with his devil bringer, and shoved him all the way to his bedroom.

Once at the door, he opened it and tried to throw Dante in by the scruff of his neck, but Dante grabbed his left arm and dragged him inside with him. He could feel Vergil get just a tad bit more annoyed at that.

Shit, what now? Did Dante plan past this, because Nero couldn't think of anything better to do than to leave?

…

Okay, I guess not. Nero turned to leave after a very long three seconds of staring, but Dante grabbed his shoulder. His life was destined to be awkward and discomforting to himself and others all over the world, he could feel it.

"Are we going to forget about what happened this morning, or are we going to talk about it?"

Nero looked over his shoulder like he was in pain. "_Get off me_," his face seemed to say.

"I'd rather forget about it," he said plainly. After another three second interval of awkwardness though, and he revised his answer. "I doubt you'd be happy with that, huh?"

Dante smiled apologetically. "I need to explain myself."

Did Dante think this was his fault? What a dumbass he is. "No. Don't act like this is your fault, because it isn't-"

"Just _shut up_ for a second, kid, 'cause I doubt you knew what I was thinking. What I said this morning about your… preferences was out of line and I'm sorry it ever left my mouth, but I did mean what I said about helping you."

"…Can you even help me…?" There he went again with that despicable little voice of his, the same voice he used the first time Dante gave him Yamato. He was using it more and more often, and he was blaming it on the moron in front of him.

"_No one can help us."_

"I'm gonna take care of you!"

Nero turned around slowly, moving Dante's hand from his shoulder and back to his side. "But you have to stay," He added as an afterthought.

There had been of few instances in Nero's life when He would say something somebody didn't agree with, and they would say to him, "There is a time, and a place." Before, he would always reply to that as, "Fuck that; I only say what I believe," and even after all the time between then and now, he still believed it.

Normally, he'd say that he wanted to be with Kyrie, deny his true feelings, and so on. That would be his natural response; that would be the response that was set for this time and place, but right now, all he could think of was what he used to say. _Fuck that, I only say what I believe_. The only difference is that what he was saying is what he was doing.

He threw his preset response away, and went with impulse. He kissed Dante. His lips were smooth, if only a bit chapped and dry. After all, Dante's wide eyes were indication enough of his surprise and lack of preparation. His scruffy chin scratched Nero, though it wasn't as unpleasant as you might expect. The kid was cautious with the space left between their bottom halves, because Dante was still bottomless if you didn't count his red briefs.

And he fisted his hair to bring Dante's face closer, but it seemed like he was trying to pull away. He had his hands on his regrettably covered shoulders, gently nudging him away. Like Nero was a cat that decided to sit on his keyboard, and he needed to type up an essay, or something equally ridiculous.

"Wait, kid; not now…" he murmured against his lips. What was this, a game? You can't kiss Dante, he has to kiss you? That's not fair.

Or maybe it was a promise for more later? The inquisitive look on Nero's face only betrayed a slight amount of irritation, though it wasn't his, and he was trying to ask Dante questions with his now open eyes. How could he talk to Dante after being rejected like that, anyways?

"I got a job to do remember? It's not that I don't want to, I just…"

"It's okay," he amended as he backed up. His life was destined to be an awkward piece of shit, huh? He back up and _almost sort of_ tripped in his efforts to exit the room, which was incredibly embarrassing.

"_Since when has __**Dante**__ ever held the responsibility to turn down such an offer? Make him do what you want; __**you have the power in your grasp**_!"

As Nero shut the door behind him and leaned up against it as if he'd been wounded, he whispered, "Not everybody can be a rapist like you."

There's the silly laugh again. He'd missed it _so_ much he _almost_ started to cry when he heard it. Or maybe he almost started to cry because his _own_ feelings. The chuckles bounced around the walls of his mind before the echo faded to nothing. Nero tried to will his existence to be like the laughter: nothing.

Nero decided it'd be best to gather his senses, his Red Queen, and his Blue Rose into his arsenal and wait downstairs for Dante. And once he got there he would act as if nothing had happened, and there was no sexual tension to be ignored for god knows how long.

And what about Trish and Kyrie? They'd both be cheating on them if they went through with their… Desires. The first thing he'd have to do is return to Fortuna and break up with Kyrie, if he could will himself to do it. He'd have to eventually.

It'd kill him a little inside to make her cry whether he wanted to be with her or not.

Dante came down the stairs looking good, as usual. With red jeans that had seen better days, judging by the bullet holes and scratches along the thighs, scuffed black leather boots with tattered, dog-eared buckles, and… No shirt.

That was not the most surprising of Dante's outfit, however. What struck Nero the most was the glinting bolts of metal sticking out of Dante's nipples. He wouldn't have taken Dante as the _nipple ring type of guy_, you know?

Dante ghosted by Nero in a way that wasn't unfriendly, but nervous or tense. Nero, from his spot on Dante's surprisingly comfortable desk, watched him pick out a red trench from the coat rack. It wasn't the same one from the Fortuna incident, and though it made sense that he'd have a new one by now, he was still mildly surprised it wasn't that same trench that had struck him so hard the day they'd met.

He remembered thinking of him as "_The Asshole in the Red Trench_" during the incident. It sounded like a good movie title, right? Or maybe it was better as the title to a book.

The trench made his shoulders stand out a little broader and it made him look a bit more… regular. Well, regular probably wasn't the right word; It made him look more _in character_.

He turned back around and glanced at Nero before taking his choice of weapons from the wall, which Nero didn't recognize. The only one he remembered was that big ass sword Dante liked to be impaled with and he still didn't know its name, if it even had one.

"Alright, kid. Let's get outta here!" Well, at least Dante seemed to be regaining his vigor. Nero perked up a bit at his tone, but he hadn't realized he was so terribly down until he corrected himself.

The walked out the door together and when they stepped down the stairs, Dante went into detail about what they were dealing with. It was a faraway mission; about an hour away by vehicle. Apparently some suburban family and their neighbors have seen some kind of demons by the woods, even found a dead body by the entrance, and became too scared to leave their houses. That, of course, causes paranoia that may never go away, and unpaid bills, as well as nauseating feelings of fear.

So it was serious; it was possible they were dealing with a swarm, so he decided to ignore his hurt feelings for the sake of the clients. Nero sometimes felt like an exterminator, rather than a demon hunter, even though the past year held no use for his Red Queen, or his Blue Rose. Could he really call himself a demon hunter?

But Dante didn't have a car, did he? Where would it be if it wasn't parked out front? Or were they walking to East Jesus together?

"We can take the bike, or the car. It's your call."

So he has a car _and_ a bike. Evidently there had been a garage type thing beside Devil May Cry that he had disregarded for a regular building upon his arrival.

"Well, let's see what you got, old man," He challenged with a smirk, possibly overdoing his attempt at normalcy. Or maybe he was just paranoid over something, who knows?

They made their way to the garage, and inside was an old-school Camaro, with red racing stripes and a nice black paint job, and a small dent on the bumper. Nero was sure if he snooped around there'd be a few bullet holes or something else littering the car, but besides that one trivial flaw, the car was gorgeous.

The bike was gorgeous too. It was red, the only black coming from under the shiny red plates and the leather seat. The handles looked inviting, almost like his Red Queen's throttle, though Nero somehow doubted he'd be as excited to rev up the bike as he would his Queen. It was his_ queen_, after all. That's not to say he wouldn't mind taking the thing for a ride though.

Maybe Dante would let him if he asked nicely.

"I guess it's a matter of who rides bitch to you, huh?" Dante asked. He saw Nero staring at the bike and assumed that's what he wanted to ride. Smart guy.

"Hm." Nero nodded.

Dante tilted his head back and rested his hands on the base of his neck in a contemplative fashion, parting his coat enough to flash his pierced chest. Nero caught himself staring almost as soon as Dante had.

He glanced at the unimportant rods of metal in an almost self-conscious way before averting his gaze to Nero's. "I was really drunk one night, and the next day I just _woke up_ with these. I liked them, so I just kept them in, and with the demon healing, I didn't have to do much to keep them from getting infected..." He shifted his hands from his neck to him hips with a smile. "You got a thing for piercings, kid?"

Well Nero didn't mind them, and he didn't think Dante needed to explain why he had them. "I don't have a problem with 'em, old man. I wanna know If you'll let me drive."

It wasn't so much awkward as it was agonizingly slow… _Let's go, Dante!_

"How about I make a deal with you, kid," Dante's tone was slightly worrying because it sounded like his deal was going to be extremely inconvenient for Nero. "I'll ride bitch if you stay for at least a week."

Oh… _"Take his offer; you'll be happier if you do."_

_I'll weigh the options, _he thought in protest to Vergil, who brashly made a decision with no thought.

"_Don't act as if I'm a fool for doing so; these kinds of things require no thought… Take his offer!"_

"Okay." Nero said with finality and a nod of his head. What were these assholes getting him into?

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**How many times will this happen to Nero, I wonder? And does Vergil really just want Nero to be happy again? Next chapter, I hope to answer these questions for the sake of my reviewers! I want to thank everybody that takes the time to leave a nice review, but I've got a request for you guys: leave a mean review, or if you're too nice to do so, leave some constructive criticism! I really do love nice reviews, but I think it'd help me to better the story if I read something mean about the story.****  
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**How did you like this chapter by the way? I'm worried Trish is a bit too rude this time around. Is anyone upset at Dante for worrying about his job instead of Nero? Let me know :)  
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**Please leave a review!  
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	6. Isn't it hotter than Satan's dick?

**Disclaimer: I do not own Devil May Cry.**

**Warnings: There are spoilers in this fic, because it is set after the events of DMC4. There will be eventual Dante/Nero stuff, but for now it's just Nero/Kyrie. This fic is filled with head cannon.**

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**Lamest hero 64**

**Chapter Six**

**Isn't it hotter than Satan's dick?**

"Can you even ride, kid?"

"Of course I can. I'm not _disabled_ or something, I've just spent a year doing _nothing_."

"Sounds like you regret it."

Nero mounted the bike after they pulled it from the garage as Dante did the same. His skin tingled under his clothes in the spots where Dante made contact, and He was trying hard not to react. Normalcy is all Nero needed right now, he'd convinced himself. Not that he had to try hard to do so, because if was true. Mostly.

"Wouldn't _you_ regret it?"

He kicked the stand, started the bike, twisted the throttle a few times and sped off down the street. He enjoyed the cool air on his face almost as much as he enjoyed the heat on his back. Dante rested his chin on Nero's shoulder to whisper directions to him, leaving his bare torso to slump against him and his hands to sit on his hips. He looked relaxed from a bystander's point of view.

Nero didn't look too uncomfortable either. Their legs were spooned together, and the only time they broke the little tangle was when there was a tight turn to be made. It was exciting to make those winding turns, and even more exciting to drive down a hill or start speeding on an empty road. There had actually been a lot of speeding, truth be told. At least they hadn't been pulled over.

Nero watched as the dirty gray buildings turned to red brick houses and grass lawns. It was as Dante had said it would've been: about an hour's drive. The finally pulled up to the house they'd been looking for, and at that point, the old man had decided he'd been up too long, and that it'd be better if he just slept on Nero's back all day.

"This is it, isn't it?" Nero's voice was impatient, for everything the old man did was at a slow pace.

"Hn, yeah it is." He sounded a little too cozy. Maybe Nero should just push him off the pretty red bike. He was about to do it too, but Dante moved his face closer to his neck, pushing his right arm up from his hips to his waist and riding his hoodie up a bit, while the other arm floated up to tug on his ponytail. It… distracted him.

Tug, tug. "You should take your hair out. It smells nice."

"Just get off the damn bike so we can do this god damned mission!"

"Smells like… Wall plaster and pizza… And roses? Your hair smells like roses."

With and long suffering sigh, the newly appointed slayer kicked the stand, stood up, and broke off the warm feeling from his back in favor of the summer breeze, and Dante hummed in an annoyed fashion. He swung his legs around the bike and tapped his devil bringer against Dante's shoulder in a small attempt to rouse him from his spot on the leather seat.

The old man stood up and stretched his arms over his head, muttering, "Wasn't as comfortable without you there, anyways."

Nero just shook his head as they made their way up the walkway to the house, and he knocked on the door almost rudely. He folded his arms while waiting for an answer, though his face didn't display the irritation you might expect.

He was really just kind of hot. Before, he had the whipping winds to keep him cool, but now there was only the breeze, and it was not generous with its appearances.

The door cracked open to reveal a sliver of the dark insides to the suburban house. It looked somewhat strange; the dark blue greens of the inside compared to the bright orange yellows of the outside.

A pair of green eyes stared at Nero and Dante from the cracked door. When the eyes saw them, they opened the door wider. As it turns out, the eyes were really just a woman, probably in her twenties. She was thick, and frazzled. When was the last time she had a decent night of sleep?

"You must be the demon hunters, right? I had originally thought there would only be one of you…" Her voice sounded like it was unused, cracked, and raspy. "Uh- Please come in."

Nero glanced back at Dante with a look that seemed to say, "Do we really want to go inside?" Dante just shrugged and they both made their way in. It smelled like pennies.

The hardwood floors had many scratches on them, like wolverine had come in and had a field day. The walls fared no better. The staircase, which lay collapsed in front of the door, looked like there were people underneath. Maybe the smell of pennies was actually the smell of dried blood.

"There were demons in your home? Didn't you say they were in the woods?"

The lady nodded. They busted in from the roof and made a mess of the house before leaving and possibly laying eggs somewhere. Apparently they were dealing with Arachne, quite possibly the most disgusting creatures ever.

She said she was the only one left in the neighborhood, and that she was condemned to the task of making sure they got there, that they got paid, and that she let everyone know it was safe to return. This wasn't even her house; apparently this is the house of the folks that called first a few days ago, but they were killed before the demon slayers got there, and she had to call again to make sure they actually showed up.

Nero looked accusingly at Dante. "See what your god damn staling gets, old man?"

"It wasn't my fault; Lady called while me and Trish were on a travel mission, and we were gonna come over yesterday but then you showed up and changed the plan!"

Nero stared at him like he was an idiot, and for the most part he was, but there was no way he could blame this on the kid when he could've just left him at DMC while he took the mission, or better yet, he could've dragged him to the mission with him! When Nero said this all to Dante he got quiet.

"And why didn't Lady take the mission?" Nero asked.

"I don't know, Lady's… Lady is a fuckin' bitch."

"Oh."

Well, whatever. There's no point in getting mad now because they were there. And anyways, there were more important things to discuss, like how to handle the Arachne. There were two options, or so Nero was told; He'd never dealt with giant spiders before and was relying on Dante's words, but he said that it'd been a long time since he had to kill any, so it might be a risky operation.

Option 1 was the safe option: Deal with Arachne during the day and break the eggs only after disposing of all the grown up ones.

Option 2 was the more fun of the two: Charge into Arachne nest during the night, killing whatever is in front of you with no worries about the consequences.

They obviously went with option _two_. They decided to clear all the houses on the block and the head for the woods, and the whole thing would start at midnight. It'd probably end at around four in the morning according to Dante's estimations.

So what do they do until midnight?

"Um, if you need something to do until midnight, there is a safe room where you can have some rest. I've actually been staying in there myself."

The kid just nodded his head and followed after the woman, because what else was he to do? They were lead down an empty hall into another, where there were three doors; two of the said doors had holes in them while the other only had gashes. There were a lot of webs in this hall.

They went through the gashed door and the room they found was almost bare, save for the tattered foam mattress, the alarm clock, the cracked window, and the dresser with missing drawers. Don't forget the webs either.

"When was the last time you've slept?" Nero asked.

"Oh, I actually might've slept a little before you came," she said with her voice so withered.

"Well, the old man and I will be in here till midnight," in the background you could hear Dante protest that he was not actually an old man. "So you can trust if you go to sleep you'll wake up again. We'll wake you up when we leave to start the mission, should you decide to take a nap."

His tone was nonchalant but the lady took kindness from it. "Thank you, but what will you do while I'm asleep?"

Nero looked to the old man as if for confirmation. "We'll take shifts so somebody can keep watch while the other gets rest."

Dante nodded yes and nudged Nero in the side. "Who gets the bed?"

Nero answered very quickly that the lady would get the bed because she obviously needed the rest. Dante looked like he was going to protest, but Nero interrupted him again, saying that they would not be sharing a bed in somebody else's house, to which Dante replied with a question asking if they would be sharing a bed in Devil May Cry. The predictable happened when Nero throttled Dante in the chest and he stumbled back a bit.

"Stop fucking around, old man."

"I ain't old."

Dante wore a little pout as the lady thanked them and gave them shredded pillows, claiming she wouldn't need them against Nero's protests. Dante intervened and took them gladly in Nero's stead. They sat up against the wall facing the door, and not three minutes later they lady was softly snoring.

Nero had his ankles crossed and when Dante heard the lady snoring he leaned over and threw off his trench to the side. Nero raised an eyebrow at him.

"Don't look at me like that, kid; isn't it hotter than Satan's dick in here?"

That earned Dante a stiff chuckle. "Yeah, it is, but you don't see me stripping, do you?" They were both considerately trying to keep their voices down.

"It doesn't seem like you mind me stripping that much, kid. Maybe I should take some more off? For you?"

Nero shook his head, "No thanks, I like you just the way you are: clothed."

"We'll see how long that lasts."

Indeed they would, just not today. Dante lay across Nero's legs and stared up at him. Nero just stared back at him like he wanted to know what he had planned.

"I'm not really feeling a nap anymore."

"Really? You seem pretty comfortable to me. What'd you take those pillows for if you were just going to use me?"

"You should know you're way better to sleep on than any pillow, but I took them because I hate those polite little arguments you get into when somebody tries to give you something you don't need. I prevented maybe five minutes of pointless arguing."

Dante reached up and plucked his nose as Nero tried to swat his hand away with no success. "Besides, don't you like me on top?" He said with a little smirk. Asshole.

"I doubt you'd be on top, old man. Wouldn't want you to throw out your back, right?"

A stifled chuckle resonated throughout the room, and Nero noted how much more attractive Dante's chuckle was compared to Vergil's. Maybe he felt Vergil have a swirl of jealousy and maybe displeasure at the thought, but he chose to ignore it for now.

"You know why it wouldn't be you on top, kid?"

"Hm?"

"It wouldn't be you because I'd make you _want_ to be the bottom."

Nero just stared at Dante's cocky face and he worried if he looked ridiculous to him, not having a comeback and all.

"Just go to sleep already," He replied lamely. The old man slid his eyes closed with the same smirk on his face, but Nero could tell he probably wasn't going to sleep. He was somewhat surprised he could talk to Dante so easily after all the awkward he'd faced this morning.

"_Do you know why you were so speechless just now, boy? Because the fool is right; you'd like nothing more than to let him take control, isn't that right?"_

To avoid looking crazy, he answered in his head with a biting tone. _"So were you actually jealous just now, or am I a complete psycho?"_

The dark chuckle started in his head, and Nero feared Vergil would appear in front of him. _"Ah, you confuse my longing with jealousy, boy. As I've said before, your love lies with another man, not I. I fear you may have become conceited in the attention I have given you."_

"You're not trying to say I think you love me, are you?"

"_You are a smart boy, you know. You don't always need confirmation for things you know. And I wouldn't say you thought I loved you; love is too strong of a word. Perhaps a good way to put it would be to say you thought I had a sick… adoration for you."_

"Well, alright then, but tell me what it _is_ you long for."

"_Power and release_."

"What kind of release are we talking about here?"

The dark laughter erupted once more before Vergil resumed his silence streak, and Nero was having a hard time of not assuming the worst of his intentions. He let out a heavy sigh, forgetting about Dante's wakefulness. One eyelid slid open with curiosity.

"Bored already?"

Nero wasn't expecting to hear Dante's voice, so he jumped a little upon doing so.

"What? No." Damn it all to hell! He should've said "_yes!_"

"So then what's wrong? If you're not bored, then what are you?"

With some reluctance, Nero decided to tell Dante a little more about the voice, most likely leaving some details out. Particularly the ones about how badly Nero wanted Dante, and how Vergil was seeking some kind of release, and how he'd almost had sex with him… But that was a _big_ chunk of the whole thing.

"I'm fucking insane, Dante. The voice, he's got troubling goals, and I worry about what they might mean for me."

"What's he asking for, money? If it's money you need then I'm afraid I can't help you." He said it lightly and jokingly like it was no big deal, but Nero knew he'd only meant to lighten his mood.

"He's not asking for money, you god damned retard," Nero said as he smacked Dante's forehead. "He wants power. I'm… I want to know how he means to get it."

Dante looked at Nero seriously for a few seconds. Nero just turned his face away. He was glad that Dante and he could speak so freely with each other, as if they'd been friends for years, but it wasn't easy for him to talk about. It was embarrassing and it made him feel somehow inadequate.

"I promise it won't be forever, kid."

When Nero looked back down he saw Dante's eyes to be closed again. He patted the side of his face and told him to get up, and then he took off his hoodie, because it really was hotter than Satan's dick in the suburban house. He then proceeded to lay at Dante's side.

"What if something happens while we're sleeping?"

"We can handle it, old man."

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**Okay, I updated a little quickly, but because of that this chapter is the slowest of them all. Sorry ^_^"**

**In this chapter you get to see how Dante and Nero interact with each other on more regular terms, and we see just a **_**tiny sliver**_** of Vergil's true intentions! **

**Here are some questions for my kind reviewers: Was anybody out of character in this chapter? Do you think it's fair to pace a chapter a bit slowly in exchange for a quick update? And is there anything you think I should've answered by now that I haven't?**

**I realize you guys may be a bit confused about some things, and I'll be glad to answer them for you; all you have to do is ask away :)**

**And I'll be answering reviews from now on, too. So here goes nothing!**

**SirenaLoreley: Your reviews are always so thoughtful; thank you! I'm really flattered you think my writing style is so good. I realize that Trish's attitude is a bit out of character in this fic, but I tried to correct it **_**just a bit**_** by making Nero see it as being defensive, rather than being hostile. And also, I'm sorry I'm making you wait to see what happens during the mission, and I hope you aren't disappointed with the result next chapter, because I hope to reveal a little more of Vergil's motives :)**

**Saraneko: I'm happy that you're pleased with the story so far!**

**Guest: I really love getting reviews like this, so don't worry about it! **_**I actually want to hear what my readers want to see**_**, because one of my biggest goals as a writer is to keep my readers happy and entertained. Maybe we should have a vote over who wants a threesome? Lol.**

**DarkBlueMahogany: You know you're the only one who left a legitimately mean review? I thank you for this, but I want you to realize that Vergil does actually have plans for things other than gay sex lol. And maybe I sound a bit hypocritical by saying this, but Nero is sort of like a vessel for Vergil in this fic, except he has no control over Nero. The idea is that his soul is attached to Nero in some way. Nero is still "Vergil reborn," but he's still his own person. Do you get what I'm trying to say?**

**Please leave a review!**


	7. Sweet Afternoons & Foul Nights

**Disclaimer: I do not own Devil May Cry.**

**Warnings: There are spoilers in this fic, because it is set after the events of DMC4. There will be eventual Dante/Nero stuff, but for now it's just Nero/Kyrie. This fic is filled with head cannon.**

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**Lamest hero 64**

**Chapter Seven  
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**Sweet Afternoons & Foul Nights  
**

When I woke up, the first thing I noticed was the smell of strawberries, and then I saw the orange sunset tint of the room I was in. Where was I? Oh, right; I'm in a random suburban neighborhood on a mission with the kid. Well, I'm okay with that. I wasn't really ready to get up from my spot on the floor though.

It was comfortable with the kid at my side, even though he was so warm with my arm slung around his side, and his back to my chest. The summer heat leaked in through the cracked window, and when I looked up through it I was reminded of the guest room in Devil May Cry. The only difference between the rooms, I think, is the amount of damage. You could say the same about the kid from a year ago and the kid now.

I'm worried about him, you know? How does it feel, I wonder, to have a voice in your head? It probably feels… like _paranoia_. But what do I know, right? He hasn't told me all the details I need to know yet, and I'm hoping he'll tell me on his own. It would make him feel bad if I tried to make him tell me with a direct approach. Maybe I could mention it to him.

I looked around, noticing how the dust caught the sunlight, and things seemed to be moving so slowly, so peacefully. But it wasn't what I was looking for; I needed the time, the alarm clock. When I found it the flashing red numbers read "8:36." I like how long the sun stays up during the summer.

Still a couple hours left. I turned back my head and lifted my arm slowly to try and pull the kids hair out. Tug, tug… It's a rubber band, I had forgotten. It won't slide off as easily as I had hoped. Oh well.

"Why are you trying to take my hair out?" He asked me groggily.

Oops, I didn't mean to wake up the kid, but I guess what's done is done. I don't know what to say at first, so while I'm thinking the kid cranes his neck just enough that he can see me better. I finally say, "It looks nice when it's out."_ I'm so smooth_.

He stares a little. I can't tell what he's thinking; his face is blank, if not sleepy. He's cute when he's sleepy, I think. He sits up, and he pulls his hair out, just for me. It makes me smile a little. I like the way his hair curved towards his chin in the front, and the back end curled away from his neck. Some uneven tufts stuck out here and there, but it wasn't as homely as you might expect it to look. It was actually kind of befitting of him. My favorite part of all, besides the smell, was the tiny peaks of his neck it offered. It leaves something to be desired, you know?

"Thanks," I say in a small voice to his back. I start to play with his hair, and it's as soft as it looks. Like feathers. As soon as he turns back to me I stop, because I think I might've annoyed him. Our eyes meet for a second before his turns around completely to face me.

What is it with the kid and these staring competitions? Every time he starts one, I've realized, it's because he has something to say. "What is it," I ask, because he probably wouldn't have said anything on his own.

He says, "I'm just thinking."

"Yeah?" I question. "Thinking 'bout what?"

"You."

"Care to elaborate, kid?"

"I was wondering about you and Trish, to be more specific."

Oh, Trish. I _do_ _care_ about Trish, but really she's just my fuck buddy. I think she knows this now, and maybe that's why she's been so _aggressive_ lately. Maybe she's trying to make me love more than I already do. Her attitude got dramatically worse when the kid showed up yesterday night. I'm going to spare you the details and just say that she was on top.

Anyways, I need to let her know soon. She won't back off easily, knowing her, but I'm sure I can take care of it. Trish knows me well; I think maybe she'll understand if I don't want a relationship with her. But if I don't want a relationship with her, does that mean I want a relationship with the kid? I don't fucking know, I don't have all the answers.

I can Imagine it, the kid and I being together. I think of the fighting we would do, the arguing, sex, the little things…

Little things like the smell of his hair, or the taste of his lips, or… Jesus Christ, I sound sappy.

"What is she to you?"

Oh, right. Maybe instead of zoning out, I could say _most_ of the stuff I just thought to the kid. I can't say some of that stuff until I know what _he_ wants. Wouldn't want to hurt any feelings, would I?

"Just a fuck buddy… and I think she knows it."

"You should make sure."

I offered a small nod and closed my eyes. "What am _I_ to _you_?" I ask with a small smile, mocking him in a way.

A pause and some scuffling. "I don't know." Is that his guilty voice? I opened my eyes, and I had to wonder, is that his guilty face? He had shifted to lie on his back, so I moved to rest halfway on top of him, with my head to his neck. I wrapped an arm around him, hoping that he'd understand I was trying to make him feel better.

It'd be a bad idea to come out with advice, or some other form of words, if you're trying to comfort the kid, because let's be honest, he's not always such a good listener. I think touch is sometimes a better way to console him than words anyways.

It might be a little too hot for it though. I think I'll wait for the kid to complain about it before I get up, because this is about making _him_ feel better; it's not about me. I eventually feel him put his arms around me, and I think to myself, "Good, he's feeling better," but I can't really tell you how he was feeling for sure. Maybe I helped his mood, I just don't know. It was an overly sweet afternoon; technically speaking, it was an overly sweet _night, _but the sunlight made it fell earlier. Who cares?

I don't remember falling asleep but he'd shaken me awake at about 11:48, saying that we should get ready to go, so that's what we did. I pulled on my old trench, he put on his hoodie and tied back his hair again, and then we were off. The kid woke the lady up with a promise saying that he'd make sure she survived, and she didn't look any less terrified at hearing it, but she nodded her head anyways. She looked better than she did when we showed up for sure, but she was still frazzled.

I waved to her as we made our way through the gashed door, and already there were three Arachne to deal with, one of them being on the ceiling. It was really dark though.

"Can you get the one on the ceiling?" I had to wonder if he could handle himself as well as he had a year ago, you know, after all the inactivity he went through for that red headed chick. Wasn't her name _Carrie_, or something?

"Of course I can!"

I said "Gilgamesh" to myself, and was instantly strapped with the Beowulf-like weapon. I would've used Beowulf itself, because the light would've helped up out a bit, but I'm a little bigger than I was when I was nineteen. I can't fit the booties on anymore!

As soon as Gilgamesh clicked into place, I jumped up and shot down as quickly as I could with my foot connecting with one of the many eyes of the first Arachne. That was one of my favorite moves. When I landed and stabilized, I sent a flurry of kicks to its face and did a spin kick to fire it across the room, dazed.

Then I tuned my attention the other one, who was trying to creep up on me from the side. I did a flip to get to its backside and started hitting its legs and bottom, hearing a snap once or twice. But I was surprised with a spray of webs from the other one, which encased my body. How convenient.

I wiggle a little bit, trying to remember how I'd ever gotten out of these prisons of web when I was younger. What did I do? I'm not sure how I even managed to get trapped, because I was trying to kill these things while keeping an eye on the kid, but I guess that's what I get. The one closest to me slashed down in a vertical slice, opening up the webs so I could get out, but It also opens up a bit of my face and torso. Damn.

Pain like this seems so trivial when you've been impaled so many times. And with my _own sword_, too. Sometime I feel like its been inside me more times that it's been inside anything else.

I pull Rebellion from my back, the blessed thing, and swing the heavy sword around with speed I'd never have been able to achieve with Gilgamesh. After I make quick work of the first Arachne by returning the favor and cutting it in half, I turn to the other one.

I thrust my sword as deeply as I could into its face, which for me is to the hilt, and I get slashed with just a little bit of its green life matter as it disappears from existence, much like the other one. It smelled _foul_. Like decay and hot breath.

Now to check on the kid. He's to my left, also finishing up with his bounty.

"You got a feel for their fighting style yet, kid?"

"Mhm. You're gross."

"If I'm gross, then I can't wait to rub this nastiness onto your back when we leave here."

He makes a grimace and I can't help but laugh. I think if I really did that he'd probably smack me off the bike and drive away. Maybe we can grab a shower before we leave, if the water still works.

We clear house after house, every house on the block, every house for about four blocks before we stop seeing them in houses, and eventually we're both splattered with green… _stuff._ Nero was a little peeved, claiming to have liked that hoodie he was wearing, but I think he'd look better if he followed my example and walked around topless. And besides, maybe the stuff would wash off.

We were right by the entrance to the forest, and it felt like maybe two hours since we had started.

"This is the hard part, kid. Are you ready?"

His face got a little sourer when I asked, but I managed to find the restraint to hold back my laughter; the kid hates being laughed at, I think. I can understand that.

"Stop treating me like I can't fight; you saw before that I could hold my own in those houses… I can hold my own against you!"

I just shrugged because I didn't want him being mad at me when things were going relatively well, you know, besides the whole "we both have girlfriends" issue.

I felt like telling him about what to expect with the environment changes, but he can hold his own, right? He wouldn't listen anyways, and if something goes wrong I'll be there to back him up. They'd be in the trees, most likely resting, nesting, or hiding. I wanted to be greedy with the killing and tell the kid to look for the bastard spiders on the ground, but I'm a nice guy. I don't tell him _anything_ and jump into the trees, letting him decide what the best course of action would be for himself.

I think I did the right thing, seeing as how the kid isn't as stupid as one. If I'm being completely honest, I don't see him as much of a kid anymore, though he still is pretty young. Not like I'm going to let the nickname be forgotten though.

So I hop through the trees, cutting and crucifying my way through the Arachne, which were mostly just eggs, with a jolly, green-spotted smile on my face, and the kid finds one of them on the ground. He's yelling at me to come help him out, so I get a little worried but I don't let my smile waver, I just make my way down to Nero and try hard to come up with a good joke to tease him with.

Apparently the kid found the queen. That's good news, because I've found that when you're not inside a giant stone tower, once you've killed the queen, the others will flee, or go back to hell, or to another suburb; some kind of shit like that, I never really followed them to where they were trying to go.

"Don't like spiders much, do you, kid?" Jesus, that was kind of _lame_.

He glances at me from the front of the demon, which I happen to be standing to the left of. "Shut the fuck up and break its legs with me!"

Okay, whatever. I put my sword back on my back and stand in a standard boxing position, ready to punch this thing's lights out with Gilgamesh.

I throw a right hook to the abdomen, a left to the joint were one of its legs connect, and another right to its abdomen while the kid slashes away at its face. It flips over at my last blow to which the kid responds by jumping up and thrusting his sword into its side, missing his main target because of its writhing. He's gotten slower.

That's okay because I swiftly pulled rebellion from my back and did a big downward swipe. Or maybe it's _not _okay because I _missed_. The thing is quicker than I thought!

I do _certainly_ enjoy challenges.

I perform stinger but it dodges to the side, towards the kid, so can you guess what he does next? He sloppily tries to slice it open horizontally, and the thing dodges again but this time it's behind me, so I spin around with my sword in hand like a plane propeller. I'm sure I looked funny doing it rather than _stylish_, but it felt good to hit something.

I actually managed to get one of its legs off, but it poked a small hole into the kid's shoulder, trying to use him as stable ground or something; it hadn't looked like an intentional attack. The kid lands a hit with a troubling grunt of pain, cutting off another one of its limbs, and it falls out of his shoulder lifelessly as the thing shrieks in rage.

The thing almost copies me by spinning around to face the kid, and it head-butts him into a tree about 12 feet away, but while it does so I take rebellion and shove it into its abdomen, ending its life. I get splashed with more green stuff as it kind of falls apart and dissolves into black smoke, just as the rest had. I'm not as _jolly_ anymore because the kid really got soft over the year.

Don't get me wrong; I'm not angry or disappointed in him, I just feel bad that he did that to himself. I need to remember to ask him about his time in Fortuna so maybe I can get more details about the time he allegedly spent doing nothing. If I was going to be angry or disappointed in anybody, I'd be disappointed in that _Carrie_ girl, because it was probably her that made the kid stay in Fortuna. But then again, I'd rather ask before making assumptions.

And I feel like _Carrie_ isn't her name.

It looks like he's sitting in a chair when I get to him; like he's comfortable sitting on a pile of splinters. I wonder… If he's comfortable sitting on splitters, then what _else_ is he comfortable sitting on? I decide to ask him as I pull him from the tree.

He says that I'm an asshole and, after accepting my hand, exits the tree and walks ahead to leave the forest without me at his side in hopes of losing me there. Well too bad for him, because I've been in more _complex _forests than this.

But something strange happens as he makes his way past the last tree, something that has been reoccurring ever since he came to Devil May Cry. I can very faintly hear a familiar laugh. A very dark chuckle.

It reminds me of family, and it's disturbing. I have to wonder where it's coming from, you know? Am I going crazy or is there really somebody laughing? This is something else I have to remember to ask the kid about. Does he carry that laugh with him?

"You think we'll be able to get a shower, old man?"

"I don't know, I didn't get the chance to see if the water works kid." I'd said it with a fair amount of sarcasm, hoping to annoy the kid into an argument, but he had no reaction. He seemed to be thinking about something, but I wasn't sure if I should bother him while he was like that, because who knows if he's going to snap? He seems kind of upset. I don't know what to do about it though.

So we walked into the house and there was a single lamp on in the living room, and it was dim, but it was easier to see. I guess it doesn't matter.

"I have your pay," said the thick woman from earlier. She looked brighter than I'd ever seen her, considering I've known her for less than a day. "Thank you!"

She'd doubled the original amount so the kid and I could get a fair share, and I was about to leave when she hugged the kid, not caring about his bloody shoulder or his gooey hoodie. "You guys can stay at my house to get cleaned up; you don't have to go!"

She was so desperate to help us. I thought it was sweet, but I wanted her to let go of the kid, who looked like he'd rather be anywhere else. I like to think it's because he'd rather be touching me, but I know it's because he doesn't want her to be gross. And hasn't she ever heard of a personal bubble before?

"Uh, okay, but let go." He said. He accepted without seeing if I was okay with it, but truth be told, I hadn't really cared. He didn't seem to be _thinking_ about it. If we take showers, we'd still have to put on these same clothes, and even if we had them washed, what would we wear while they were cleaned?

Well, whatever. I wouldn't mind hanging out with the kid with no clothes on, and I'm guessing he wouldn't mind so much either.

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**Hello! So, I/ felt like maybe the kid's was getting a bit tiresome, so I decided to try writing from Dante's POV. How do you like it? Was he kept in character? If it's not your thing, then don't worry, because I'm going back to writing in Nero's ****3rd Person POV next chapter.  
**

**I didn't reveal that much during this chapter, and I think that's a big reason not to like it, but I hope nobody hates me for it! I was really just experimenting a little. Forgive me! Also, I was listening to "Beautiful Morning With You" by The Pillows while writing the sweet afternoon part, and "Meridian Dance" from Secret of Mana for the foul night section, in case anyone cares.  
**

**Okay, so onto replies then.  
**

**Saraneko: I don't plan on ending this very soon :) I'm just glad you like the story so much!  
**

**Chibi-Onee-chan: You're very nice to say that, thank you ^-^  
**

**SirenaLoreley: I'm so happy you were plesed with last chapter! I just hope that this one hasn't disappointed you, seeing as how the mystery hasn't been revealed any more than last chapter :( Nobody really seemed to be annoyed eith the point of view but I feel like the story need a brief change, you know? I'm thankful for your quick reviews!  
**

**Please leave a nice review for me!  
**


	8. The Cracking of Resistance

**Disclaimer: I do not own Devil May Cry.**

**Warnings: There is yaoi smut in this chapter. If you don't like, don't read.  
**

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**Lamest hero 64**

**Chapter Eight  
**

**The Cracking of Resistance & Still No Answers**

The thick woman took the two demon slayers to her house, which was down the street with little damage. The front door was gone, some appliances were broken, and the carpet was tattered a bit, among other things, but everything important was kept relatively intact. They were showed their rooms, which were regrettably separate.

"You guys can have the first showers. You need it more than I do anyways," she says with a glad smile. Nero was a bit uncomfortable in this situation, not wanting to impose on her or something else, but he'd only agreed to stay because he wanted her to let go of him. Her touch, for some reason, made his skin crawl. He blamed it on Vergil.

By the time she brought them to her front door, it'd been too late to turn down her offer, and honestly, he'd rather take a shower and have his clothes washed before leaving. But he felt angry.

So here was the plan; Nero would take his shower first, then Dante, and while Dante was cleaning himself, Nero would sit in the thick woman's husband's clothes as his own clothes were being washed along with the old man's. Simple right?

You have to consider how often things go wrong for the two though.

So Nero sat on the couch with an over-sized white tee on and his boxer briefs, wet hair and everything. The shirt smelled like old spice. The thick woman came up to the couch, claiming to have just put their clothes in the washing machine.

"Thank you," Nero says with a small voice. He wanted to _leave_, but like an _idiot_ he accepted her offer.

"Nonsense! I should be the one thanking you! You came in like a bad-ass and killed all those spiders with your friend; you saved my life!" She seems like the excitable type of person, but maybe her enthusiasm just comes from gratitude.

She takes a seat next to Nero and places a hand on his shoulder, which he feels the urge to smack off. She's just trying be friendly after all; how big of a dick would it make him to slap her kind hands away?

"How long have you been killing demons?"

"I actually just started up with the old man yesterday."

Her eyes grow wide like a child in a toy store. "Wow, you mean this is your _first time_?"

He shakes his head. "No, it's been about a year since I've killed last; I just met up with him again to get back in the fun."

Mouthed an "Oh" and stood up again. "You hungry? You haven't eaten anything, have you?"

"I'm not actually hungry-"

"C'mon, follow me to the kitchen. There's no way you're _not_ starving."

She grabbed his hand and pulled him to the kitchen. He was annoyed with how touchy-feely she was being, but on top of that, he could feel Vergil getting angrier. He was trying his hardest to be nice, but with all these extra things he's been feeling it might be hard.

"Please let go." He wasn't feeling so good anymore. Like his head was on fire, like he had a fever. He feared his voice was strained. His brows covered a part of his eyes, his nose scrunched up, and his teeth showing a slight bit. This anger was not his. He wanted to break her hand in his, but held back from doing so.

She let go as if she had been burnt, happy face falling into fear. "S-sorry."

As her hand left, he felt the hate simmer down to irritation, and he backed up, shaking his head. "I am too," He said as he turned to leave, the thick woman still in the kitchen. She stared after him worriedly.

He climbed up the stairs, the dim yellow of the living room fading to a dark purple color of the upstairs. It was befitting of his mood, which had taken an odd turn downhill. He needed to leave, but Dante also needed to finish his shower, and their clothes needed to wash and dry. He could actually hear the water running from where he was.

Nero decided it'd be best if he just went to his room, and tried to go to sleep. He found his way back to said room and lay down. The kid's back pressed into the bed comfortably, but the feeling was shadowed by the discomfort of someone else's hatred.

"Why do you make me feel like this?" He asked Vergil, hoping for an answer or at the very least some acknowledgement.

"_I will not apologize for being repulsed by repulsive creatures_."

Nero let out a deep sigh and placed his hands over his face, rubbing his forehead with his cooler hands to try and calm down a bit.

"_This hate you feel is what I've felt for most of my life; you'd best get used to it_."

How can that be? After a while, wouldn't it become unbearable? The sick, hot feeling of having a fever, and the bristling of your skin? And what of the heaviness in his chest; in his heart?

"Look, that's nice and all, and I'm sorry you've had a shitty life, but I don't really _give a fuck_. I'd like it if you cooled off. In fact, I liked you better when you felt like ice."

"_You want me to help you cool off, you say? I suppose I can be of service to you_," He said from outside of Nero's head. The dark slayer placed cold hands over his wrists and slowly moved them from his face.

Nero saw the smirking face of the voice as it lowered his hands and drifted ever so closer to his face, eventually touching noses with him. He brought the rest of his body down to once again straddle his hips.

Vergil twisted his head to bring his lips to Nero's, lightly kissing and eliciting stifled groan. He put his frigid hands under Nero's shirt and slowly ran his hands across his skin like he'd come in from a cold winter day, and he was just trying to warm him up again. Nero didn't want to be kissed or touched but he had to admit that it felt good at such an icy temperature.

While doing this, Vergil left Nero's lips and placed cool kisses to his face and neck. "_Do not lie, boy; you're enjoying yourself as thoroughly as I am_," his chilled breath against his skin causing him to shiver a bit. At least the hot feeling was disappearing, but he blamed it on Vergil being separate from his body.

"Maybe I am, but it's the _temperature change_ that has me so pleased, not _you_."

"_So sure of yourself, but if I were to_…" He stops what he is doing for a second to raise his body temperature to lukewarm. "_Feel like another warm body_…?"

Vergil lifted himself enough to stroke the exposed skin of Nero's inner-thigh and buried his face further into Nero's neck, lips brushing against it softly. His breath hitched, and once again, he was forced to hold back a moan. "_Tell me, boy… How does it feel_?" He said as he grew bolder and stroked the bulge in his boxer briefs.

"Y-you bastard…!" He gasped through clenched teeth. He couldn't deny that this was better than his cold strokes, but he was being humiliated by this horny parasite too often. _He couldn't take much more of it_.

Corrupt laughter sang through the room fluidly, and it got darker as Vergil began to kiss a trail down Nero's stomach. he kid placed his hands on his head, fisting his fingers through his hair again, urging him to stop. _Just stop._

Sliding his warm hands up and down Nero's sides, Vergil said, "_You don't really want me to stop, I can feel it._"

By this time, the water in the shower had stopped running, though Nero couldn't hear it because the laughter blotted all outside noise out, and his growing erection was pressing into Vergil's collarbone.

He pulled off the boxer briefs and Nero's cock flopped out eagerly. Perhaps this was the moment his resistance truly started to crumble. As Vergil started to pump his erection, he felt his other hand prod his entrance. The dark slayers face was no longer smirking, but was still dark. He was wearing his serious face. It felt good, but they weren't the right hands.

"_You'd feel better if you relaxed_."

"You don't really fucking care about how I feel," He replied with little breath. "All you want to do is _fuck_ me." The kid bucked his hips when he said the word "fuck" to illustrate his point.

Vergil cracked a smile as he inserted his finger completely, and listened to the gasp from Nero as he began to thrust and twist it to the rhythm of his fist.

"_You've come to know me well, but still, that isn't all I want from you_."

He increased his speed as he added another finger, hitting a spot that made Nero forget to keep his volume down. The moan ripped through his throat like glass, and he hoped the laughter, which had quieted down the slightest, isolated the sound. It was fading away but the darkness still remained.

But Dante could hear the laughter, and he was curious enough to follow the noise. He placed an ear to the kid's door, reluctant to crack it open at hearing Nero's gasps and groans. Was he sick or something?

"_Vergil_..." It could be heard softly from the other side of the door. It demanded to be checked out, but his hands couldn't possibly turn the handle, could they? This fear of whatever is going on on the other side... What could it mean. Surely the Vergil the kid is whispering about isn't his brother; it's got to be some other guy! The only problem was that it sounded like he was having sex. Or _jerking off_, anyways. There can't be anyone in there besides Nero. But if that's true, why was he so afraid to go inside.

He was about to go inside, but then the thick woman came up the stairs, and averted his attention.

"Hey, um, is your friend okay?" Her voice startled him and he jumped a little. She can't hear it too can she? It sounded too soft, but maybe she can. Who knows?

"Yeah, why?"

"Well, um... I tried to offer him something to eat, and he got really mad. I thought he was about to attack me!"

What? "No, everything is fine; sorry to worry you. The kid just has a short temper," Dante lied through his teeth with a reassuring smile. There's obviously something very wrong here, but he'd had to investigate later unfortunately, because the lady was coming closer to the door, and he couldn't risk her overhearing whatever the fuck was going on. Protecting the kid from humiliation was what he was trying to do, but he didn't know exactly _how_ terrible of a job he was doing at it.

He met her in the middle of her path and averted her direction by guiding her down the stairs, and asking if the offer for food was still available. Of course, instead of having something he could eat right away, she had to cook something, and he couldn't just leave the kitchen while she was cooking because he feared it would look suspicious. Really, besides showering or sleeping, there was nothing to do upstairs; going upstairs while she was cooking for him would be strange.

And she wouldn't stop talking either.

"Where'd ya get that big ass sword?"

"What's your name? What's that other guy's name?"

"You and you friend are real cute; where'd you come from?"

It took her fifteen minutes to cook up a decent but thin piece of steak and some Spanish rice for them to both have, and if she wanted to have dinner with him then it'd take even longer to climb the stairs again; Dante doubted he'd get any answers now, after all this time has passed, but at least he'd played it off like a champ.

He'd normally just leave, not worrying about how rude he was being, but his discretion was all for the kid's sake. He wouldn't want to embarrass him any more than he's already have. Well, not in somebody else's house, anyways.

While this was still taking place, Vergil place a third and final finger inside of Nero, stroking his cock just the right way, twisting his fingers into his spot. The moans had increased but were still stiffed to the best of the kid's ability.

"You're... _evil_...!" He said through gritted teeth angrily. He didn't want to be fingered or jerked off, but yet he was being pleasured by it at the same time.

All Vergil offered in response was a cold chuckle as he bent over to whisper something in the kid's ear. "_Stop holding back and come for me, boy. I'd like to savor the taste._"

As he raised his upper half back up to continue his ministrations properly, and Nero came just like he'd been asked to, as if on cue. Vergil kept jerking him until he became soft, and then licked his fingers clean of the cum that had gotten on them. He chuckled once more at his winded state.

"_If you lose your breath so easily, then I'd like to see what it'd be like to fuck you a bit more **seriously**._" He drawled out his words, mocking him and teasing him. he'd bent over once more to clean Nero up with his tongue, giving him a long kiss before a white flash removed him from the room, and though the laughter had stopped some time ago, it had gotten brighter with his disappearance. The kid pulled up his draws but didn't bother fixing the over-sized tee.

Nero didn't feel like himself. He was weaker from a wasted year, and a parasitic voice. He was losing touch, and he felt like he was raped, though he let it happen. He let it happen and he enjoyed it. So he stared up at the wall, and placed a wrist to his head, noticing how his temperature had regulated, and he cried silently. Everything was just so fucked up. _His whole life was fucked up_.

He wished he could be one of those unremarkable faces in a crowd, one of those people who didn't even believe in demons, or curses. People with sanity and a regular body; a regular life. And it was really sad, because he couldn't be sure that was even true.

He'd fallen asleep in that position with his wrist on his head. In the middle of the night, he was woken up by the feeling of something warm around his waist. It was an arm, and it looked like it was glowing at first because of the moonlight, but upon further inspection, he found it was just a regular arm. He turned back to find Dante staring at him, but his hair was partially pushed back. It freaked him out a little but he collected himself at the sound of Dante's voice.

"Sorry. I didn't want to wake you up. Couldn't sleep."

Nero didn't say anything back, he just stared back. It made him think about the beginning of the mission when they were sleeping in the sun kissed safe room, in the middle of an arachne nest. He sat up again and pulled his hair out once more for Dante, and then he turned himself over and held him.

"I'm in-fucking-sane, Dante," he said as the tears stared to flow. He feared his voice wasn't the only thing that was cracking.

* * *

**I know it's not what you guys would've preferred to happen, but I've had this planned. Poor Nero is breaking! I wonder how Dante will help out, because so far they've done absolutely nothing to stop Vergil!**

**I don't think I'm very good at writing smut, so I want to know what you thought of it. Do you guys think this random section of lemon is uncalled for or unnecessary?**

**Well, on to replies then. Ahem...**

**Saraneko: Thank you!  
**

**Chibi-Onee-chan: I'm sorry if I disappointed you last chapter with the change in POV :( I hope you like this chapter better! I liked the first part of last chapter a lot :)  
**

**SirenaLoreley: Once, again, you've left me a wonderful review! I'm glad you liked last chapter so much, but if you feel bad for Nero then, I wonder how you'll react after reading this? And I love the idea with a long haired Nero, but you're right, he wouldn't be as cute if it got too long :) Also, the drama with Trish might not be quite over just yet ^-^  
**

**I wanted to thank all my story followers, too! It counts just as much as a review!  
**


	9. Do Something About Your Brother

**Disclaimer: I do not own Devil May Cry.**

* * *

**Lamest hero 64**

**Chapter Nine  
**

**Do Something About Your Brother**

They left the next day with their clothes still warm from the dryer, and the lady was sound asleep as they crept away from the house. They did this, of course, to avoid more conversation. They were both being rather antisocial, understandably. Dante took the front seat, with Nero holding onto his waist, and they sped off towards DMC.

Nero wanted to tell Dante about what he'd let happen, but he couldn't bring himself to; crying in his shirt all night had been embarrassing enough. The old man had asked what was wrong of course, so it wasn't as if there wasn't a good opportunity to say something, but Nero liked to do things the hard way it seemed. Hasn't this been said before?

Whatever. When Nero heard the slap of his boots on the now_ familiar_ hardwood floor, he decided it'd be a good time to work on getting actual help. You know, Dante had kept promising to take care of him, but so far there hasn't been a single thing done about Vergil. So it was time to change that.

"Hey, old man."

He'd looked over at him over his shoulder, for he was by the coat rack, and Nero had perched himself on his desk. "Huh?"

"I think we should do something about this god damned voice in my head."

He stared back wide-eyed at first, but eventually this smirk broke out on his face. "You're flip floppity, kid. I bet once we start you'll change your mind again and go home." He was just teasing, but it wasn't funny to Nero. He didn't bother getting offended, though. What would be the point?

"Keep talking like that and I just might." He didn't want to call Fortuna his home, but it didn't matter he guessed. Dante just laughed and straightened up.

"Give me details then, kid. We gotta know what this thing really is, you know?"

He let out a sigh before starting his description, because thinking about it was tiring enough as it is. "He's not always a voice; sometimes he turns himself into a body that I can see and touch. I'm not sure if I'm the only one who can see him or not. He's very teasing, and cocky, and... _Touchy_... He usually feels like ice, but apparently he can regulate his temperature to fell like a regular body, and whenever he's around it seems like whatever room I happen to be in gets a few shades darker."

"What's he look like?"

Nero's blank fell fell into a small frown and slightly furrowed brows. "He looks just like you if you pushed your hair back and shaved."

Why was he so surprised to hear that?

"...And his name...?" His voice was a little worried now.

"Vergil...? What does his name matter?"

He turned around completely and made his way to Nero, serious face and a tense walk. He stopped in front of him. "You're sure?"

"Yeah," Nero answered with confusion.

"Shit. _Shit._" He was pacing now, hands in his hair.

"You're freaking me out, old man. What the hell is so serious all of a sudden?" Nero held his hands out to his sides, feeling like he was about to lose his shit.

"It sounds like my _brother_ is in your head..."

He'd heard mentions of Dante's brother before, but never anything bad. He knew that Yamato had belonged to the stranger, but who was he? Obviously someone to worry about if Dante is getting upset over it. Obviously someone to worry about if he was the one in his head.

"If he's your god forsaken brother then why is he such a bastard? It's hard to believe you might be related."

"Yeah, I know. I gotta call Lady...!"

What? He thought Lady was a bitch. If she's as bad as Dante says, what could she possibly do to help? Did he really want Lady to know he was insane? Maybe Dante saw the questions on his face.

"I _have_ to. If my brother really is in that head of yours, then it means we'd be removing a soul from your mind, rather than just a voice. She has a bunch of old tomes from her dear old daddy about stuff like this, and I was gonna call her anyways because I still don't know how to get rid of some shit like this... Has he done anything to you?"

He didn't want to tell Dante he was sexually harassed or that he'd actually got _finger fucked_ by his brother, or that he let it happen, or any of that shit, so he didn't. He lied and said "no," but Dante knew it was a lie. Who could fall for a lie like that? Oh, and he didn't know what he was doing, huh? Well, that's great. He started to dial the number.

"I used to have a bunch of books on demons from _my_ father; me and Verge were going to inherit them, but our house was burned up in a demon attack, along with our mother. They _probably_ would've been better research materials, but I guess we'll just have to take what we can get."

Okay. That made Nero feel a little bad. Dante didn't seem too down about it, but still. That surprised Nero; how easily he could speak of his burned mother and everything. It made him remember that Dante hadn't had an easy life either. He remembered the old man saying that you didn't get to save the world everyday to him during the savior incident, but it was funny that somebody like him would say something like that, considering that he'd probably saved the world a few times himself. Nero had never asked him about it, but the older slayer had dropped hints saying so.

And it made more sense the more he thought about it. How had Dante even met Trish and Lady when Lady didn't seem to care for him, and Trish might be bat shit crazy If he didn't meet them through saving the world? If they had met through normal circumstances, one way or another, they'd have parted ways. Nero was sure Dante didn't like crazy women near Devil May Cry, and he was sure Lady didn't like Dante, so by forming a bond over _saving the world_, they stuck around. Either way, it didn't matter.

He'd been so caught up in his irrelevant assumptions that he'd missed all of the phone talk except for the butt end of it.

"I'm so sick of your bullshit, Lady. I don't give a damn if _you_ don't have the fucking time to help the kid out, can _we_ come over and look_ ourselves_?... Okay, cool. Thanks, Lady."

He hung up the phone and turned towards the kid, a small and calming smile on his scruffy face. "We'll be leaving for Lady's place later today; look through some dusty boxes and all that good stuff."

Nero returned the smile with one of his own and nodded, hopping off the desk with his hair bouncing a bit on the way. He crosses his arms and shifted his weight between his feet. "Okay. When is later today?"

At this, the old man's smile turned into a mischievous smirk; never a good sign. "_Well_..." He'd stretched his word out with an innocent tone of voice. "Lady _did_ say to wait a few hours because she's on a mission... But _I_ was thinking that maybe we could leave as soon as we've eaten and cleaned up."

Nero just shook his head and turned away with that same smile on his face, throat emitting a soft chuckle and his eyebrows arching in amusement.

"Alright, old man. We'll do it your way."

* * *

**Please pardon the length of this chapter, I feel like I've waited too long to post such a short piece of _nothing_... I could include some more details about how they ate together and then changed their clothes, but I don't think anybody would've wanted to read about something like that. I'm just going to write out the part where they leave Devil May Cry in the next chapter, excluding all the in between stuff. That is, of course, you'd actually want me to write about it?**

**In this chapter, I hoped to show a good reaction to Dante finding out the identity of _the voice_, but I fear it may have been boring. I guess the main point of this small chapter was also to show a start or a course of action for the "voice in head removal" process. I don't really like this chapter because of the length and lack of story progression, but I think It'd be best if I posted it anyways.  
**

**It was hard to write this piece of shit, too. I couldn't decide if I wanted Nero to tell Dante about what happened or not, but as you can see, I decided it'd suit his character more to keep it bottled up for now. So here are my chapter questions for my lovely reviewers then.  
**

**Did you like this chapter, considering how short and boring it is? Do you agree with me when I say that it was a necessary addition? And did you guys want to see more of Vergil in this piece? I kind of missed Vergil. Also, do you want to read about Dante and Nero getting ready to leave in the next chapter, or do you want me to go with my original plan?  
**

**Moving onto replies...  
**

**Saraneko: Your reviews are always very short and sweet, so thank you! I'm always happy to hear someone liked a chapter of mine, but I wonder if I've let you down this time?  
**

**SirenaLoreley: I'm sorry I made you cry! I'm glad I could affect somebody like that, but I don't want you to be sad! I'm looking forward to reading your review the most, I hope you know. After being so upset over last chapter, I can only imagine what you might say about this one. Not that I can compare last chapter to this one, because last chapter was one of my favorites, while this one was a big pain in the ass! I hope you like it anyways, though :)  
**

**Chibi-Onee-chan: I'm glad you liked that little piece of lemon I wrote in the last chapter, because I was worried it might not be as detailed as people would've liked. How did you like this chapter? Surely you agree with me about how _interesting_ it is, right?  
**

**Please leave a review!  
**


	10. The Summer Rain Makes You Forget

**Disclaimer: I do not own Devil May Cry.**

* * *

**Lamest hero 64**

**Chapter Ten  
**

**The Summer Rain Makes You Forget With A Moment On The Glass  
**

They rode the sweet Camaro into the next city, and it wasn't uncomfortable, but the kid would've much rather been in bed or at the very least, on Dante's lumpy leather couch. Or maybe on his chest.

He looked out the window, tapping his foot along to the song Dante had on. A hard rock song, maybe it could be considered metal. The heavy crash and bang of the drums with the hard guitar and the shredded voice all put together sounded nice at its small volume when it mixed together with the sounds of the road. Nero could see Dante tapping the steering wheel with his finger from his peripheral vision.

Nero was feeling better than he had last night, or even this morning. They decided to bring their guns only, because Dante ad said it would be all they needed. He was excited to get started on a solution, and focus on other things too. Like his relationship status. That sounds so lame though.

How did he feel about Dante now? I mean, would his apparent brotherhood change how Nero saw him? Should it? No, of course not; Nero tried not to judge Dante so harshly anymore, and he didn't feel good about judging him over somebody else's actions. Vergil was hardly Dante's responsibility, though somehow Nero got _infected_ with him; now he was his _obligation_.

And he felt awful about it, really. Dante had said that Vergil was not a voice, but a soul, suggesting that he was _dead_. And if that's true then technically, Dante shouldn't have to worry about the asshole anymore anyways. That's really the only reason he felt bad about Vergil.

Oh, but let's not forget the sex though. That's a pretty good reason to feel bad. The old man was into the kid, and the kid was into him; they both knew this now, as it was almost _painfully_ obvious. So the fact that he'd let Vergil have his way with him was a bit unfair to them both, though Nero felt that it would be worse for Dante than it would be for him. Secrets, secrets, secrets…

And what of Kyrie? Now that he'd escaped the fishing city of Fortuna, he rarely thought of her. That sounds terrible. He _was_ in a relationship with her, you know? He did love her, but if she knew he'd had sex with another man, she'd be destroyed. Or, that's what he _thought_, at least. She was what kept him from killing himself back on that piece of shit island, and he'd never be able to truly thank her for that; as morbid as it is, suicide was not always an unreasonable thought to him, especially on the streets, with the stares, and the feeling of not belonging, and the strange loneliness he hadn't understood until now. Saying sorry wouldn't be enough. Not ever.

Nero didn't feel like he could say that it wasn't his fault, either. He'd say it was halfway consensual. That sounds stupid, and he would wish there was some other way to put it, but there simply wasn't.

While being concerned about all of Kyrie's possible reactions to his evident homosexuality, a thought crossed his mind that he'd forgotten the importance of. Did Dante want to be in a relationship, or did he just want sex? Nero really didn't want to assume the worst, but it was easier for him to do so. All this to prevent disappointment, and he didn't even know the truth. Oh well.

As he watched the road from his window, he felt the voice awaken with feelings that were not his own. It was the first time he'd felt him since the "rape", which wasn't too long ago. The feeling of aggravation passed over Nero in small waves, leaving him to dread having an actual conversation with Vergil.

The kid didn't know what to think about Dante's brother, and he didn't know what to expect from Vergil now either. Probably more touchy feely _nonsense_. Or maybe he'd take on to more violent habits.

What ever happened to the idea of Vergil wanting Nero to be happy?

"_I __**do**__ want your happiness, but I also seek your pleasure. You can't tell me that isn't what I got in the end."_

Replying in his mind, he said, "I'm over it."

A small chuckle from Vergil, but not a complete laugh; it was even lacking its usual darkness. "_I don't truly believe that, but I don't care for the truth. Not from you, at least. I had hoped you would've discovered my relation to Dante out on your own, but I suppose it can't be helped_."

"Oh, that makes sense, considering all those _hints_ you dropped. _How could I have missed it_?" he asked, inside voice heavily laced with sarcasm.

"_You still don't know? Put the pieces together. You and you alone were able to mend Yamato. My blade is whole again because my soul was reacting to it, attached to you. It'll never break again, so long as I am with you. And what of my appearance? Did you think that to be a coincidence? There's also my amulet. You've seen it once before, but I suppose you never paid too much attention to my clothing. No, actually, you might've seen it before I showed you my body; in your church services if you actually listened. They mainly focused on my father, Sparda, but there were mentions of twins, of Dante and I. You'd know we both have a half of the complete amulet_…_ A gift from our mother… Confirmation of our brotherhood._"

Nero listened to all these things that passed him by, and he suddenly felt a little dumb and unobservant. That was a little silly though, considering that he was not dumb _or_ unobservant.

He never said anything back to all that. Vergil already knew how he'd felt.

"_I am not going to fool around any longer. Do you understand, boy? You know who I am, and so now I think it's time I start getting serious_."

"What do you mean?"

"_I'm sure you won't be in the dark for too long now, boy. We shall achieve great power together, you and I_."

There's always got to be something to worry about. It seems like everything that he'd already done to Nero was about to be blown out of the water. His dread was evident and easily noticed by Dante. Laced to his features like a fish hook.

"Hey, are you alright, kid?"

He looked over at Dante, and realized they were at a red light, and he was staring, and it was drizzling, and whatever song that was playing seemed to stop at that moment.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said and his voice had that familiar boyish rasp to it that Dante felt like he hadn't heard in forever, even if he'd heard it before they'd left for Lady's.

"Liar," he'd answered back with humor. Nero just averted his gaze back out the window.

He smiled as he turned back to the road, and Nero listened to the road noises, and the rain against the car hood, and the new softer song that had started up. It didn't stay too soft though, it had a sweet into melody which got overthrown by a nice thrum of hard notes, though the song itself was still pretty soft in Nero's book.

The sweeping roads and cars from outside the window were covered with the tiniest raindrops, and It was no longer the deep blue of the morning, but the bright cerulean and gold of the day peeking out from under a blanket of expressive, gray clouds. He realized that the summer rain could make things seem better, if only for a while.

"You know this song?" Dante hadn't asked like he was surprised, but like he was pleased; pleased to the point of it almost not being a question. Honestly, what kind of music did he think he was into?

"Yeah, why?"

Dante spared him a quick glance before turning back to road. "I could see you mouthing the words. You didn't know you were doing it?" He laughed a little at that, and Nero just looked at him, eventually smiling as well.

They pulled up to an old apartment building with cloud colored bricks, and a dark brown lining between them. Maybe there were _gargoyles_ at the top. Dante swerved into the parking lot and hopped out of the car, claiming that this was the fun part.

He'd said that you had to be buzzed in, and since Lady wasn't home they couldn't do that, so they were going to break in through a window. Not that they couldn't just bust down the doors, but the old man had also said that it wasn't as fun.

"Doing it like that is boring. If we do it like _that_, it'll be like we waited for Lady to come back."

So they walked out of the parking lot and around the building, scaling up the brick wall like lizards. Nero had an easy time of it, using his clawed hand to hook himself on better. The deep groves between each brick were easy to get his boot between also, even if it was slippery. Dante was not climbing a quickly as Nero was, but it wasn't because he couldn't, or that's what Nero was guessing anyways.

"Keep up, old man."

"So eager… I didn't think you'd be in to breaking in someone's house."

Nero saw Dante's hand reach up to grab another brick, but in his distraction, his foot slipped. "Oops!"

In the split second before Nero's reaction, he wondered if he should let the old man fall and laugh at him for it or if he should help him and make fun of him.

The end decision was to grab out with his devil bringer and hold him up with the ghost of his hand.

"You dumb ass; Hang on to the wall!" It may not have looked like it but Dante's weight was pulling Nero down. He didn't want to fall any more than Dante.

Dante grabbed on with a thrilled smile. "I told you this was the fun part! Getting on your nerves really gets an old man's heart going, you know?"

Nero just shook his head and wondered which window Dante was planning on going through. He was told it was the top right window he was looking for, so he waited in front of it for Dante to get there, sitting on the edge with his back to the glass. Dante came up between his legs, making him mildly uncomfortable.

"Don't be a fag, Dante; if you fall again I won't catch you." His face was mock irritated and Dante knew it, so he just continued to climb up between his legs and kept himself secure on the side of the building by gripping the divot of brick above the window, and placing his knees in between Nero's.

He brought his face close to the kid's, teasing him, though Nero didn't know it. He thought he was about to kiss Dante, so he closed his eyes. Dante surprised him by pulling out his gun and breaking the window. Nero fell through the glass as Dante shot through it with Ivory and onto the rough carpet of the inside. As he fell back, he tried to exact a small form of revenge upon the old man by bringing him down with him, but the result was not a punishment to either of the two involved.

With Dante still between his legs and his hands on the folds of his trench (which was not the same as the one from the Arachne nest) he just stared, not knowing what the first move should be. Dante's trench was slippery from the rain, just as the bricks had been, and his hair was damp, skin pricked with droplets here and there. One had to assume he looked the same. They both had on the same coats from their first meeting, actually.

You have to love summer rain. Sometimes things slowed down so perfectly. If he were to look past Dante's shoulders he'd see the rain falling in slow motion, and he could feel his heart beating slower, could see Dante blink his eyes so very heavily. His grip loosened very slowly, shifting to his shoulders with a slippery smooth grip, and as the air was sucked in between his cracked lips, he noticed that Dante didn't know what to do either, which seemed so unlike him. The flirt doesn't know how to handle a situation like this? So strange.

Dante leaned down finally, careful with his hands and the broken glass. He closed his eyes for good, and Nero did the same. Their lips touched softly, pressing together and sliding against each other.

When Dante moved his hand along Nero's side and onto his hip, he felt a flutter in his chest. Was it nervousness? When his fingers glided through his alabaster hair, he felt a pang of _something_. Was it anticipation? And when Dante deepened the kiss, he felt his face get warm. Was it embarrassment?

The thumb of the hand that found its way to Nero's hip circled comfortingly, and as they pulled away for air, both breathing heavily, Nero slid open his eyes to look into Dante's. They were the same as his, but in that way, they were also the same as Vergil's. As he gazed into his eyes, that same icy beryl pools with the summer rain hanging form his lashes, he knew he could never compare Vergil to Dante.

His devil bringer was lost in his hair, clinging to the back of his head while his human hand cupped his cheek. What were these feelings? His heart was heavy in his chest. It was still hard to breathe, even after catching his breath. Was the slight shaking in his joints just a product of nerves?

And when Dante dipped his head to kiss him again, he met him halfway. His demon arm snaked down his nape to the small of his back while Dante's free hand moved to rest on the shoulder. He'd lowered himself from Nero's face, lip brushing against the chin, and suckled on his neck. From there, Nero moved both hands back to rest in his hair.

Nero closed his eyes and tried to calm his breath, his heartbeat. He feared Dante could hear it, and it couldn't then he was definitely feeling it.

"Would you really not catch me if I fell?"

"I would." The answer came with no thought. He'd almost wanted to take it back, but when Dante lifted his head to show a smile, the only thing he ended up taking back was his breath.

His eyes gleamed with happiness akin to that of a child's, and Nero remembered how excitable the old man actually was. In the end, which was not far, he smiled too.

Dante pushed himself up with that same smile plastered to his face, taking the responsibility of moving on and doing what they came to do, and he pulled Nero up with him. He fixed his shirt, which had twisted and risen on his stomach while the old man was on top of him, and then he ran a clawed hand thorough his hair to rid it of the possible bits of glass that could've gotten in it.

You'd think it'd be uncomfortable lying on top of glass with another man on your stomach, but he supposed it was because it was Dante that made him forget to complain about it. He turned to his backside, checking for more glass as Dante brushed on his hands and knees, actually apologizing for having him on the floor with glass in his back.

He wasn't cut or uncomfortable, and even if he was, he had half the healing ability of a full blooded demon, so it would've been alright.

"It's fine."

As Nero turned back to Dante the older slayer brought his hand up to ruffle his hair with a smirk, claiming that it would be best to get started before Lady got back. Apparently, she wasn't going to be gone long, which was part of the fun.

* * *

**Well, I was a little surprised with what people were saying about the last chapter. You guys actually liked it! I want to thank my reviewers for always being to so kind :) I think I like chapter Nine a little more now that I know it's not as terrible as I had made it out to be. Also, updates might not be as quick as before because I can't seem to keep my grades up. I'm distracted!**

**Anyways, I wrote this chapter to try and express Nero's growing feelings for the old man, and also to get them in the "Sweet Camaro," because everybody likes to see Dante in a sports car, but it doesn't look right in my mind's eye. Dante had a cow-boyish look to him in DMC4 with his leather chaps and his faded trench, so I think it would look right it he had a cow-boyish car to go with his newest look. The old school ones were always my favorite anyways.**

**But I suppose that's not important. We still don't know what Vergil is planning on doing! Can I get some guesses from you guys? What do you think will happen? Do you agree with me about the car thing? And how about that moment on the glass? Did you like it? What song did you think of when Nero and the old man were in the car together?  
**

**If anyone cares, I was listening to Everlong by The Foo Fighters while writing this.**

**Onto replies then...**

**Chibi-Onee-chan: I'm glad you liked the last chapter. You and everybody else really made me feel better about it :) Thank you.  
**

**Saraneko: Thank you for the kind words! And you don't have to write a long review to make me happy; just write what you want to ^_^  
**

**SirenaLoreley: I wanted to know what you thought of Vergil's reaction in this chapter. Do you think it's appropriate? Also, I wanted to to know that your review made me smile, just like it always does. You're very encouraging!  
**

**Please leave a review!**


	11. Would You Sell Your Soul?

**Disclaimer: I do not own Devil May Cry.**

* * *

**She who wears Trunks**

**Chapter Eleven  
**

**Would you sell your soul?**

He walked further into the apartment with wandering eyes. There wasn't much to look at besides cheap furniture and a beat up looking punching bag. The two demon hunters decided to put aside their moment on the glass aside for later, an unspoken promise for more later.

"You say there are books here, but I don't even see any _pamphlets_ around here."

Dante just laughed and rubbed his nose, shaking his head like what he just heard was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard. "You're just not looking in the wrong places. I know Lady has a tome or several from daddy Arkham around here."

Nero decided not to ask who "daddy Arkham" was, assuming the answer would be one he did not like. But like Dante had said, he wasn't looking in the right place. The old man pulled a box from under Lady's bed, which had a sort of military tidiness to it.

"Why don't I pull out the boxes, and you look through them; when I can't find any more I'll help sort through the dust too."

Nero nodded in agreement, dragging his index finger across the top of the taped box to open it easily. "No scissors needed," he joked to himself.

There was nothing particularly informative about any of the books, but there was a picture frame in there with a broken glass front that he thought was interesting. A small child with long black hair sat on another man's lap, and they were both smiling genuinely at the lens of the camera with sweet, happy faces. The girls eyes, though the picture was faded and in black and white , appeared to be two different colors. The father, or who he presumed to be the girl's father, was well groomed, if not wind-blown.

"There isn't anything important in this box, Dante," he called out, suddenly pulling away from the picture as if his eyes were not meant to drift there.

"Okay, that's cool. There's more in the living room to look through."

Box after box, he started to feel like there was no point in searching anymore, almost losing hope, but then Vergil gave him a tip. "_Do you not feel something in the one to the far right? I would think your arm would twitch at being so near to it."_

"Near to what...?" he muttered out loud. Dante, who had been sifting through boxes for a while now, sat next to him puzzled at his words. Confusion spread across his face as Nero pulled the box in question closer to his and pulled out a red leather book with the words, "Curses of the Burned Flesh" stitched in fancy gold lettering.

He flipped open the first page and was almost as if his arm hummed to life like a machine. He realized what Vergil was talking about. "Why does it feel like this," he wondered out loud again, and Dante took the time to formulate a question.

"What are you talking about, what's that book?"

"_Read it. The first few pages_."

"Shh!"

Dante just stared at Nero as he took the time to read the first few pages like Vergil said, and they explained at length about how he was "of the burned flesh," and that his arm was a curse that nobody has ever been able to break. Not that he wanted his arm gone anymore.

The explained how being of the burned flesh can make a guy more receptive to certain curses, should the cursed body part be involved with whatever. Of the list of curses that a being of the burned flesh was "attachment," which was what he had evidently.

"Any entity who has a soul can harbor multiple souls, or 'voices' as many humans have put it, and become haunted by them. These foreign souls hold onto their host and then drive their host to insanity, usually sending them to an insane asylum and feeding off of their scattered thoughts. Beings of the hell burned flesh are stronger, and thus more resilient against the taunts of these voices, but many have fallen to the corrupted souls.

"There are many ways to rid oneself from the intrusion, and one way is death, or by being cleansed in the fires of hell, though there is a myth that says any one man who would climb to the top of Temen-ni-gru can find an elixir that cures all mental ills. This, of course is only legend and cannot be relied on as a source of curing this sickness.

"They say to make this elixir calls for many items like devil stars, and the like, but the hardest ingredients to find are not really tangible things. If I am remembering correctly, one of the said ingredients is a bolt of Nevan's love, while another is the light of Beowulf. Nobody has ever been able to retrieve these things however, and the recipe has never been completed, but it is said that when swallowed, incredible fires blaze in the belly of the drinker, and the intruding soul is scorched away.

"The final way to relive oneself of this curse is very complicated, and involves making a deal with a demon from the inner circles of hell. The ritual you would have to go through is strange, or so I've heard, and it sometimes involves disfigurement or selling your soul. A dangerous trade it is, but without a soul, there would be no voice to live under your skin, and many have made the sacrifice. More often than not, these demons don't do much with the souls they've collected, sometimes making potions with them or selling them, but there is very little risk of harm when it is not attached to you physical body."

Nero read the few paragraphs to Dante to let him know he'd found the right book, but that they'd probably need more information on the recipe and these merchant demons.

"We are not going to sell your soul, Nero. I can get all the stuff on that recipe list, really. It won't come to that."

Nero stood up and stretched his arms far past his head to hear the satisfying pops in his shoulder, sighing at the feeling. "How do we know this elixir even works, old man? What's if it ends up doing more harm than good? I'll drink fire if I have to, but I think it would be best to find all the info we can."

Dante stood up too, taking on a more serious face. "You can't sell your soul, kid, the risk is too high."

"Didn't you hear what I just read to you? My body will be fine no matter what happens to my soul because it'll be gone. And so will Vergil. He'll be gone for good, and neither of us will have to put up with his shit anymore!"

"That doesn't mean your body will be fine without a soul, regardless if whoever you sell it to uses it or not! Some people's bodies degenerate without a soul!"

"Oh, where'd you hear that at, huh? Sounds like-"

"You'll kill yourself, kid! If you sell your soul, who knows how much time you'll have left to live. Please just trust that I know what I'm talking about when I say it's not a good idea to sell your soul. This elixir is going to work; it has to."

They were in each other's faces. Nero was frustrated at Dante's wishful thinking, as if that's ever made anything better. No, he found that optimism doesn't cure insanity, and it doesn't stop tumors either.

"Yeah, well, there are no guarantees old man, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes to get rid of this god damned voice." His voice had gotten low, and grisly. Eyes almost venomous in their wanting for a solution. Dante looked no different if a little saddened.

Nero walked out of the living room to the room with the broken window, but when he stepped in to the doorway, he heard Dante say to him, "What would I do if you disappeared huh? You think this is for nothing, kid? That this is just about you anymore?"

He turned to face Dante fully, regret on his brows like sweat.

"You can't just leave me after you've been here for such a short time, you know. You gotta stay, we gotta keep each other happy. We gotta keep each other alive."

"Would you sell your soul?"

Dante shook his head. "Not if I had somebody to come home to. I've got you and Trish, and Lady to worry about now. And you've got me, right? And that girl from Fortuna." He didn't say her name because it would be bad if he called her _Carrie_ and that wasn't her name. But was his voice shaking.

Lighten the mood, that was Nero's newest goal. "I'm not going to die, regardless if I sell my soul or not. You heard what I read, right? 'Beings of the hell burned flesh are stronger,'" he added with a smirk. "I'm not going to let your brother hurt me anymore, and I'm not going to let myself burn in hell. We'll be fine."

On that lighter note, Dante smiled, shaking his head again as if to rid the bad feeling away, but his smile fell as Lady barged in with a bloodied button-up on, with Trish in tow.

* * *

**_I am so so sorry for this long wait I've put you beautiful people through_. I've got shitty excuses, if you'll listen to them. I had writer's block for a week after submitting the last chapter, but once I got the will to write again, my internet was down. So I wrote the chapter on my computer, thinking that it would be up again soon, but it wasn't. I actually re-wrote this bit at a friends house because it's still down. I hope you'll all forgive me. I feel so terrible for setting this down so long!**

**Do you guys like this chapter? was it worth the ridiculous wait? I hope it was, but as usual, I have my doubts. (It's another short chapter...) What path do you think Nero will end up having to take? What about that surprise appearance from Trish and Lady? What do you expect?**

**Oh,and a less noteworthy side-thing is that I've changed my name from "The Lamest Hero," to "She who wears Trunks."**

**Please forgive me, my ever-kind reviewers. I love you guys!**


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